Dark Magic
by Illeana Starbright
Summary: Brian thought his troubles in Miami after helping bring in Carter Verone were over. He couldn't have been more wrong. AU after 2F2F.
1. Chapter 1

_Dark Magic, Miami, Florida  
July 12, 2003_

The club was hopping. Music blared, the base vibrating the floor, as girls in the back rushed to change costume or adjust their makeup. The arrest of Carter Verone approximately a month ago had shaken up the balance in Miami's nightlife. Verone had owned the Pearl, _the_ club to be in after dark, but struggles over management after the big boss had been put on trial had led to its closure, at least for the moment. The power vacuum from Verone suddenly being out of the picture had allowed Jeremy DeWade to move in and open Dark Magic, which had quickly become the new it club. Unfortunately, DeWade had also filled the power vacuum within the criminal underworld of Miami as well. His movements so far had gone unnoticed, but that wasn't likely to last. Anyone who worked for Jeremy DeWade knew he wasn't subtle.

"Yo Tia, you're up girl," a voice yelled and a caramel skinned beauty shoved her way through a crowd of younger girls decked out in glitter and feathers. She paused behind a vanity where a tall blonde was putting the finishing touches on her eye shadow. Green eyes met gold ones in the mirror and the blonde nodded, standing. In four inch heels, the blonde easily towered over her friend. "Don't you trip out there," the golden eyed woman said, hands on her hips as she glanced up at the blonde. "Boss is in a mood."

"He's been in a mood since Molly left 'im," the blonde replied with a roll of her eyes, heading towards the stage.

"You're telling me, sister," came the reply, accompanied with a smirk. Tia turned her head back to show her friend a sly grin before she stepped on stage with a sway to her hips. The caramel skinned woman shook her head, settling on the sidelines to wait for Tia's return. The music was loud enough to be deafening, but she was used to it. Working five nights a week in the club did that to a girl.

Four minutes later Tia returned, glistening with sweat along with the glitter of her gold top and skirt. Her gold curls were disheveled but there was a satisfied smirk on her face as the next girls took the stage. "Done for the night," she said, leading the way to the back. "How 'bout you, Holly?"

"One more set and then I'm outta here," Holly replied with a grin. The two women bumped fists and Tia reached for a makeup pad, ready to wipe the thick later off her face. Exhaustion was setting in, and she knew that by the time Holly dropped her off at home she'd be struggling to keep her eyes open. If she didn't get the makeup off she'd fall asleep with it still on. Then she'd had to clean it off her pillowcase and scrub until the remnants came off her face, just so she could slather it back on again when she had to come into work at eleven.

Makeup removed, she headed for the back room where the dancers kept their things. She snatched the bag with her street clothes in it and headed for the changing rooms. The sooner she got out of the couple of sparkly pieces of fabric that their current clothing designer thought was a top and skirt, the better. She slipped into bluejeans that hugged her hips and a black crop top, not bothering to cover her toned stomach in concession to the wet Miami heat. She left the heels on. They weren't hers, but she'd just be back in them tomorrow so there was no point in leaving them for costuming.

Tia slipped out of the changing room just as Holly was slipping in, over sized purse slung over one shoulder. "Meet you out back in ten minutes girl," was called over a shoulder before the door swung shut. Tia grinned and rapped on the doorway once in acknowledgment before dropping her costume in the laundry bin and slinging her bag over her shoulder. The trip to the back door was a chaotic maze, which was normal, and stepping out into the musty smelling alley behind Dark Magic was almost a relief. The temperature outside wasn't any cooler than it was inside the club, with bodies packed together to watch the shows or dance to the music, but the brick wall of the building provided some relief. Tia made a face at the slimy feel of it but didn't move away, pulling blonde tresses up off her neck in the hope that it would help lower her body temperature more quickly.

"Hey hot stuff!" a voice called from the nearby bustling street but Tia ignored it, used to the catcalls by now. A girl didn't spend long on stage dancing for a bunch of lusting men if she couldn't handle being called all kinds of disgusting names. "I'm talking to you, sweetness," the voice continued and Tia resisted the urge to flip him off. Holly would be out in a minute or two and most guys backed off. If they didn't, the pair could always grab one of the bouncers, who were all too happy to throw disrespectful men to the curb for bothering one of the girls. "Now don't be that way, angel," the voice pleaded and this time Tia had to turn and look in the man's direction because his voice was far closer than she was comfortable with.

The man was standing just far away that Tia couldn't make out facial features, but she took in broad shoulders and a frame that easily towered above her own. Fingers tightened into fists and she pushed off the wall, rising to her full height. "Get lost," she told him, voice as icy as she could manage. "I'm not interested."

"But sweetheart-"

"Don't sweetheart her," Holly's voice snapped from the doorway. "She said no, asshole, so back off and find some girl that's interested."

If this had been a television show, Tia would have been able to see the man's teeth gleam in the darkness and would have guessed that something was wrong, but real life didn't work that way. "But dollface," the man whined plaintively and Tia scowled, turning to glance at Holly.

"Why don't you go grab Tony?" she suggested. "He'd be more than happy to take care of this for us." Tony Andretti had two pretty daughters at home and no problem throwing some guy across the street if he didn't want to take no for an answer.

"You got it, sister," Holly replied, door banging shut behind her.

Tia took the noise as her cue to turn back to the man, saying "You have two minutes to get outta here before Tony comes over and makes you. Do yourself a favor and get going."

"Two minutes, you say," came the reply. The man's voice shifted abruptly, from whiny and pretentious to something darker. "That makes things a little tighter than I would have liked, but I guess that can't be helped."

Tia's eyes narrowed as she strained to see a facial expression in the darkness. What she caught sight of instead was a blue handkerchief coming out of nowhere to cover her mouth and nose, the man's bulk lunging forward to pin her to the wall. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound was muffled and the air she pulled in made her head spin. Her knees gave out and the only thing holding her upright was the weight of another person pressed intimately against her. Her vision was blurring and fading when the handkerchief was pulled away and stuffed into her gasping mouth. The man stepped back and she tumbled towards the ground, the sickening sensation of falling the last thing that she experienced before she blacked out.

When Holly stepped aside to allow Tony Andretti to step through the back door first, the alley was empty. Not so much as an abandoned high heel or a single loose sequin from the designs on the back of the blonde's jeans remained to remind the pair that she'd existed. Tianna Holloway was missing, and as Holly dialed 911, she couldn't stop her hands from shaking. She knew, just as every other girl in the back did, that anyone who took the time to make a dancer vanish completely normally left a dead body lying somewhere for the police to find.

* * *

 _"We, the jury, have reached a decision. We find the defendant guilty of drug trafficking and assault of three federal agents."_

* * *

 _Tej's Garage, Miami, Florida  
July 15, 2003_

Brian O'Conner hummed tunelessly under his breath as he worked on getting a ruined water pump out from under the hood of a Honda Civic. The car was six years old and its original owner had done a poor job of keeping the car maintained. The man who'd brought it in had bought the car for a bargain for his teenage daughter, only to discover the vehicle needed a lot of work. It had been brought into Tej's last Wednesday but the going was slow since they kept having to wait for parts. To his left, Rome was finishing up the oil change on a two year old Nissan Altima whose owner was coming to pick it up in an hour and, to his right, Jimmy was doing some tweaking on Suki's baby. The garage had been decently busy during the past month and Tej had been all too willing to hire Rome on as another mechanic, jumping at the chance to expand his business.

Originally Brian and Rome had toyed with the idea of opening their own garage with the money they'd filched from Carter Verone and the feds, about a million each, but had decided that if the feds were keeping an eye on them, their sudden good fortune might raise suspicion. Instead Brian had taken his job back at Tej's and Rome had accepted one. Now the two of them spent days elbow deep in cars' innards while talking smack and passing tools back and forth. The Spyder and Evo were parked around the back, gifts from the feds since both vehicles had gotten plenty banged up during the race to nab Verone before he made it out of the country with the drug money and Monica Fuentes. So far the two brightly colored vehicles had just sat, neither Brian nor Rome having found the time to take out all the GPS trackers wired in under the hoods or to repair all the damage done to them.

Sooner or later Brian would have to do some work on the Evo so that Suki could get the rematch she'd been pestering him about. He would have taken her challenge weeks ago if he'd still had his Skyline, but he hadn't seen the car he'd put so much work into since the night he'd been arrested after a race and pulled into the Verone undercover job. He doubted he'd ever get it back. As if sensing that she was in someone's thoughts, Suki sauntered into Tej's in what looked like a modified Catholic schoolgirl's uniform, though she was showing far more skin than any dress code would allow. Her boots clicked on the floor as she crossed over to talk to Jimmy about her S2000, lifting a hand to acknowledge Brian's wave. He smiled and turned back to the Civic, carefully easing the water pump free. Faulty piece of equipment out, he scanned the folding table next to him, searching for the correct box.

His eyes had just landed on it when the rumble of a vehicle pulling up to the garage caught his attention. Tej was out for the afternoon, talking with the bank over a statement that had a couple payments on it the man didn't recognize making, so it had been left up to Brian, Rome, and Jimmy to handle customers until closing. With Jimmy talking to Suki about her vehicle and Rome, working on the final checks of the Altima, Brian was likely the person who'd have to talk to this customer. He wiped his hands as clean as he could manage on a rag, which he swung on to his shoulder before turning and freezing as Agent Bilkins of the FBI stepped out of a slick looking black pickup truck.

"You got this, bro?" Rome called, focus still on the Altima, and Brian barely resisted the urge to run a palm through his hair as he called back an affirmative, stepping cautiously out from the shade of the garage and into the harsh Florida sunlight. Bilkins was dressed down in a white polo shirt and a pair of dark wash bluejeans, which made Brian hope that the man wasn't here to arrest or recruit anyone. The last thing Brian needed was to be pulled into another FBI undercover mission, considering that the first one had ended in a warrant for his arrest and the second had almost ended in his death.

"Do you have a minute, O'Conner?" Bilkins asked, body language relaxed.

"Sure," Brian replied, stopping just out of arms reach, as was his habit when he wasn't sure how a situation was going to play out. "What can I do for you?"

Whatever Bilkins saw in Brian's face made him smile and slip his hands deep into his pockets. "Nothing dangerous," the FBI agent replied. "I just came to return something of yours." He gestured towards the trailer attached to the back of the truck and Brian glanced at it, curious, before turning back to Bilkins. The smile stayed in place as the older man led the way around the back of the trailer, opening it up. Brian squinted into the darkness and then felt a wide grin cross his face at the sight of his Skyline. "Consider it a thank you," Bilkins said, offering Brian the keys.

"We still have the Spyder and Evo," Brian felt compelled to say, shooting a measuring glance at Bilkins.

The other man shrugged in response and asked, "What's the FBI need a Nissan Skyline for?"

"I just want to make sure this doesn't come with strings attached," Brian said, not looking away from Bilkins.

"No strings," Bilkins reassured him. "It just seemed a shame for such a nice car to sit around in an impound lot for years." Brian nodded and stepped into the trailer, heart pounding in his chest but fingers steady. The engine roared to life at the first try and he blew out a relieved breath, pulling his slightly damaged baby out of the trailer and into the sunlight. The Skyline needed some work, but it would be ready to race in a lot less time than it would take to get all the GPS crap out of the Evo.

" _Nice_ , bro," Rome called, wiping his hands on a rag before slamming the hood on the Altima. Brian grinned at him, on cloud nine for the moment, before turning to Jimmy.

"Think you can get her up and running again?" he asked and Jimmy nodded, grinning at him.

"Sure thing, Brian," came the reply and Suki bounced next to him with a grin on her face.

"Does that mean you're gonna race me?" she asked with a challenging smile.

"As soon as she's up and running," Brian replied with a grin. He turned then, grin still in place, to look at Bilkins. "Thanks," he said and the other man nodded at him, shutting up the trailer and heading for the cab of the truck. Brian turned back, stroking a hand over the shine of the silver and blue paint job, as the truck pulled away.

Rome pulled the Altima out and Jimmy motioned for Brian to pull the Skyline inside in its place. "I'll take a look after I finish Suki's," he promised and Brian nodded, tucking the keys in his pocket before heading back to the Civic. The water pump replaced, Brian moved on to the next problem. An hour later he'd replaced another part and Suki's S2000 had been pulled out, replaced with a used Kia Sorento that was in for an oil change. Rome got to work on that and Jimmy popped the hood of Brian's Skyline, the three of them working in relative silence. Sometimes, mostly when Tej was in, the radio was on but most of the time the only sound was the clatter of tools and parts, often accompanied by Brian's off tune humming.

Suki returned an hour and a half later, decked out for a race. She flipped on the radio to some Spanish pop station, the sound washing over them in a rhythmic wave that drowned out Brian's humming. There was an hour left in the work day before they closed up the garage and Tej was due back any minute. Brian finished up what he could on the Civic and slammed the hood down, wiping the back of his arm back across his forehead. Jimmy was still working on the Skyline, which would take at least another day to get in racing shape, and Rome was finished up with a battered looking Ford Focus.

Tej pulled up as the sun was setting, stepping out of his vehicle and slamming the door. "You get everything fixed up with the bank?" Brian called and Tej nodded, grinning.

"Got some good news for you too," the other man called. "Verone's sentence got handed down today. He's doin' ten years in the big house. Got some kind of fine too." Rome whistled and Brian nodded his head in acknowledgement. He doubted Verone would be locked up for longer than a year but it was good to know he'd be locked away for the moment. He nodded in acknowledgement but Tej had already turned away, eyes wide. "Man, you got that Skyline back?"

"A...friend dropped it off," Brian replied, unable to keep the grin off his face. "We're fixing it up so Suki can have her rematch."

"Damn straight he is," Suki replied with a grin. "I'll get you this time Brian."

"Sure you will," Brian drawled but they both were grinning.

"Any of you racing tonight?" Tej asked, pulling his phone out of a pocket but pausing before he dialed, Jimmy already heading for his own vehicle so he could get people around to set up the track for the night.

"Homeboy and I don't have nothin' to drive," Rome said with a grin, dodging Brian's half-hearted attempt at a headlock.

"I'm in," Suki sang out with a grin and Tej nodded, leaning over to give her a quick kiss before dialing a number and lifting the phone to his ear, heading for the door. "Meet us at Dark Magic after?" Suki questioned, turning her attention to Rome and Brian. The two exchanged a quick glance before nodding. Suki beamed at them and said, "We'll be there around two-ish."

"We'll be there," Brian reassured her, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek before she headed for her vehicle, Tej right on her heels.

"So what do we do until then?" Rome asked in the sudden silence they were left in.

"I don't know about you, man, but I'm gonna get a shower," Brian replied. "You too, if you wanna get any attention from the ladies."

"Last one back to the house has to wait," Rome said, barely finished setting terms before sprinting off towards the houseboat he and Brian were currently bunking in. The blonde laughed before sprinting after him, knowing his friend had too much of a head start to ever be caught. He skidded to a stop on the deck of the houseboat and Rome was already heading for the shower with a whoop of triumph, making Brian roll his eyes and head for the kitchen. It'd been a long afternoon and his stomach was reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the ham sandwich and flat Coke at noon. He'd grab a quick bite to eat while Rome was cleaning off.

It took ten minutes and dish soap to scrub his hands and arms clean enough that he felt comfortable preparing food with them. Bread came out of the pantry, along with a half full container of peanut butter, and Brian dug around in the silverware drawer for a clean knife. He and Rome had to hand wash dishes on the houseboat, but neither one was very good at putting everything back in its proper place. Knife found, Brian ripped a paper towel off the roll and made himself a quick sandwich, grabbing himself a warm can of Diet Coke from the box on the floor before heading for the deck. Ordinarily he would have grabbed a Corona from the fridge to go with his dinner, but going to a club with Suki and company after a race always involved drinking. There was no point in starting the drinking beforehand, and he could always grab one later if Suki called to let he and Rome know that the cops had shown up to bust the race.

The sunset painted the blue water with orange and pink, a few puffy clouds drifting across the sky. The air was still sticky, humidity helping the high temperatures hang around long after the sun had set. Brian had cut his hair after the mess in LA, shaving it close in the hope that no one would pick him up off the street and turn him in, and he'd kept it that way ever since he'd arrived in Florida. The temperature was far too high for him to consider letting it grow out a bit. He didn't know how Suki lived day in and day out with her long hair covering her neck and sticking to her skin. At least the temperature in LA had cooled off at night to where it could be pleasant to be outside after dark. In Miami during the summer, it didn't matter if the sun had set or not. The heat was there to stay until the cooler months arrived.

Brian polished off his sandwich and took a sip of the Diet Coke, trying not to think about what he'd left behind. Mia was likely the only member of Dominic Toretto's team left in the states, since he'd heard rumors that Vince had mysteriously vanished from his hospital room, and he doubted she wanted to talk to him. She probably thought he'd used her as a way to get into her brother's crew so he could turn her in, and while it had started that way, he had found himself genuinely falling for her, not that she was likely to believe him if he told her that. The end of that undercover assignment had turned out to be disastrous for everyone involved, and Brian had resolved to stay far away from the Toretto family for the rest of his natural life. He didn't think he'd have a problem with that resolution. They weren't likely to seek him out, even to take revenge, with the feds searching high and low for them.

"Shower's yours, Bri," Rome called and Brian stood, stretching out muscles that ached pleasantly from a hard day's work.

"Is there any hot water left?" he called back, stepping inside the houseboat and forcing a smile on to his face. Thinking about LA and Mia always left him feeling melancholy, but he was doing his best to move past that. He had family in the form of Roman Pierce, who was grinning at him from his position in the doorway, and every time he talked to Monica Fuentes, she insinuated that she'd be willing to move their relationship from just friends to something a little more intense. Maybe one of these days he'd be far enough past Mia to take her up on that.

"Nah, bro," Rome said, teeth gleaming in the shadows that spread across the interior of the houseboat as the sun sank lower on the horizon. "You're gonna freeze."

"Thanks for that," Brian replied but his grin felt a little less forced as he slipped by Rome, heading for the back. He grabbed a fresh pair of clothes and slipped into the bathroom, turning on the water in the shower and slipping a hand under the spray, just to make sure Rome had really been kidding. Stepping under ice cold water was never fun, no matter how warm the day had been. Satisfied that he wasn't going to freeze, he stripped and stepped under the water. He'd go out tonight, have some fun, and help Jimmy get the Skyline up and running tomorrow. Maybe after a race his head would be on straight enough that he'd be able to ask Monica out on a date and move on for real.


	2. Chapter 2

_Miami, Florida  
July 13, 2003_

Tia blinked open heavy feeling eyelids, wincing as sunlight sliced across her vision. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt dry, as if it had been stuffed full of cotton balls. She struggled to remember what had happened the night before, eyelids closing in an attempt to block out the harsh light that made her eyes burn. She remembered going into Dark Magic for a shift the night before, dancing until her feet ached and her skin was coated in sweat, and talking to Holly. As far as she could recall, it had been just an average night. She'd gone through her shift without a hitch, changed clothes, and waited outside for her friend to come out and take her home. How, then, had she ended up here? It didn't make any sense.

She tried to stretch, her arms aching from where they were pulled awkwardly behind her back, but only succeeded in rubbing coarse rope against her wrists. Tia winced and cautiously blinked open her eyes again, relieved when the sunlight hurt just a little bit less. The wall directly across from her was stained looking concrete and had a narrow, rectangular window near the ceiling of it, which was what was allowing beams of sunlight to hit her face. She lowered her gaze to a darkened spot of concrete further down the wall, trying to focus her fuzzy brain. Something had happened last night, after she'd stepped outside, and she needed to know what so that she could figure out what was going on.

 _"Hey hot stuff!"_ a voice crowed in her mind and Tia twitched with annoyance in her chair. Some guy off the street had been catcalling her last night. The memories were hazy, but still there, buried under whatever had left a sour taste in her mouth. She frowned, trying to force the images of the night before that were swirling around in her brain to coalesce into something that actually made sense. Her head began to pound as she slumped against the folding chair someone had left her in. Her head dropped towards her chest and she caught sight of rope binding each of her legs to the chair. Whoever had brought her down here hadn't wanted her to just get up and walk away.

A particularly vicious throb of her head had her groaning. Had she been drinking last night? She didn't think so. The last time Tia had gotten well and truly drunk was when she'd found her stupid boyfriend, ex-boyfriend now, sleeping with one of the other dancers at her job in one of the Las Vegas shows. She'd blacked out in her own apartment after getting thoroughly smashed at a local dive bar and somehow stumbling her way into a cab, then up four flights of stairs. Her key had been broken in the lock and there had been a message from her boss asking her if she really wanted to quit. Tia had decided she was never getting that drunk again, and Holly had been good about helping her keep that promise the few nights the two of them had went out to have some fun. No, this wasn't a bad hangover. This was something else.

Footsteps thudded casually on stairs somewhere behind her, not doing anything to help her headache. Tia let her head loll casually to one side and glanced at the approaching figure through her eyelashes. He was a tall skinny guy and she doubted he had much muscle to him. What he lacked in frame size though, he made up for in the casual way he cradled a twelve gauge shotgun in his arms. Even if Tia could get free from the ropes attaching her to the chair, her chest would be shredded before she could escape. Just one more factor that helped this day keep getting better and better.

A rough hand smacked her cheek hard enough to make it sting. The man circled around to stand in front of her, saying, "Time to open those pretty eyes, sweetheart. 'Cause we need to establish some ground rules here."

Tia reluctantly opened her eyes and lifted her head, heart thrumming rapidly in her chest. The man smiled at her, showing off straight, white teeth that belonged on a toothpaste commercial. Up close, he was nice to look at. While his frame was a bit on the skinny side, she could see hints of muscle in his arms. His dark hair was neatly combed, revealing curls where strands fell over his forehead, and the light from the window behind him gave him the impression of having a halo. Considering that she was pretty sure she'd been kidnapped some time last night, Tia found the impression of the halo to be extremely misleading.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced," the man said, a hint of a southern drawl coloring his words. "My name's Michael, but you can call me Mike." He waited for a moment, as if expecting Tia to offering her name in return. When it became obvious that she wasn't going to do so, he sighed and shifted the shotgun to one arm, reaching into the pocket of his bluejeans with the other. After a moment he pulled out what looked like a driver's license, and Tia had a bad feeling that it was hers. Her suspicions were confirmed when he started reading the information off the front. "Tianna Holloway, age twenty-five. Blonde hair, green eyes. Height, five feet, ten inches. Weight, one hundred thirty-six pounds. A little bit on the skinny side, aren't you sweetheart?"

Tia tried to ignore the growing whisper of fear in the back of her mind as Mike looked up from the license to stare at her expectantly. "I work for a living," she said, keeping her voice as level as possible. "A girl who does what I do has to stay in good shape or she's out of a job."

"Of course," Mike replied casually. "For someone of your profession, looks are incredibly important." He paused a moment, letting the room fall silent, and then asked, "How long have you been working in this profession?"

"Five years now, going on six," she said, trying to keep the casual conversation going. She desperately wanted to know what this man wanted from her, but she suspected that the longer she kept things civil between herself and her captor, the better things would go for her. "I started a couple days before my twentieth birthday."

"Were you going to college?"

"No. I took a gap year after high school because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do."

"And it became a career?" Mike questioned, seeming genuinely curious about the answer.

"Yeah," Tia replied, a hint of a wry smile sipping on to her face. "I liked what I was doing and I was good at it. I was getting ready to apply for college in the spring when my boss offered me a raise and a full time position." She shrugged as best she could and said, "I took it."

"That wasn't in Miami, was it? A few of my friends frequented Dark Magic, before and after the Pearl closed, and they said you haven't been around for too long," Mike said.

"I started in Las Vegas," she responded. "Doing shows at a casino. I came to Miami after I found my, at the time, boyfriend cheating on me with one of the other girls I worked with. I wanted a fresh start."

"Understandable," Mike replied, tone sympathetic. Tia found that, if she focused on his face, she could almost forget that she was tied to a chair and speaking to a man that could shoot her at any time. "How'd you get the position at Dark Magic?"

"My boss at Las Vegas, Monique, knows one of the costume designers at Dark Magic. That helped me get the interview, and Mr. DeWade was eager to hire someone with my qualifications." She hesitated a moment before deciding to take a chance, adding, "I hope I still have a job when this is over with."

To her relief, Mike tilted back his head and laughed. "I'm sure you'll still have a job, since this is completely out of control." The his expression turned serious. "We don't want to hurt you, Miss Holloway. Mr. DeWade has withheld some supplies that he promised us, so we've taken something of his in return. Once he hands over our supplies, you'll be free to go." Tia smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over her at his words. "The reason you're tied up here instead of resting comfortably in a safe house is because our plan took an unexpected turn last night. Be reassured that this situation is, by no means, your permanent accommodations while you stay with us. We'll be moving you to somewhere more comfortable tonight. Now, is there anything I can get you? Water? Food?"

* * *

 _"Oh yeah! How do you like me now boys?"_

* * *

 _Dark Magic, Miami, Florida  
July 16, 2003_

Brian and Rome were overwhelmed by the pounding base of the music the instant they stepped inside Dark Magic. Suki had rung them twenty minutes ago, still celebrating her victory over the guys who constantly condescended her every time she stepped forward to race. Anyone who hadn't gone against her before underestimated her, thinking that she was nothing more than a pretty face. The truth was that, once Suki put her foot on the gas and pulled forward, it was nearly impossible to catch her. The only reason that Brian consistently beat her was through a combination of luck and skill. Sooner or later something would go wrong for the former cop and Suki would get her victory over Miami's famous Bullitt.

The two friends scanned the club, Rome searching for their friends and looking over prospective one night stands while Brian searched for any sign of trouble. He'd been a cop in LA for several years, and those instincts weren't something he could just shut off, especially not after putting someone like Carter Verone behind bars. At two in the morning the club was hopping, but Brian noted the sheer amount of bouncers standing around. It looked like the owner was extremely concerned over something happening in his club, and no one was allowed to get too close to the stage. "Hey man, I found 'em," Rome called over the music, nudging Brian's shoulder to catch his attention and then motioning towards their right. Suki was standing next to the the bar, lifting her drink in a toast with her girls, Jimmy, and Tej. She smiled when she noticed Brian and Rome, she motioned them over with a wide grin.

"Hey boys," she called cheerfully when they approached, allowing Brian to lean over and kiss her cheek before returning the gesture. "Grab a drink. We're celebrating victory tonight."

Rome leaned across the bar to order his drink, flirting outrageously with the pretty bottle blonde bartender who took his order. She smiled, laughed, and leaned over towards him to show off her cleavage while Brian rolled his eyes in exasperation. Rome had rarely been a one woman kind of man, only making the exception for a couple notable females, as long as Brian had known him. It seemed that his friend hadn't grown out of that habit. While Rome and one bartender flirted, a curly haired brunette approached with an apologetic smile. "What can I get for you?" she asked.

Brian considered for a moment, opening his mouth to ask for a Corona before thinking the better of it. He was trying to move away from what had happened in LA, not cling to it. "Whatever she's having," he replied, gesturing with a hand towards Suki.

The brunette glanced at Suki's brightly colored drink and then turned back to him, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

"I'm confidant enough in my masculinity to drink whatever you hand me," Brian told her with a grin and she grinned back.

"Alright. Whatever you say." She turned away for a minute to prepare his drink before turning back around and handing it over. "One Malibu Cocktail for you." Brian lifted the drink in toast to her before taking a sip, wrinkling his nose a bit at the taste. She laughed and shook her head at him before turning away to take another order.

Brian sipped at his drink and watched the flow of people dancing and smiling as most of his friends stepped onto the dance floor. Two of Suki's friends, a brunette with pink streaks named Lindy and a dark haired beauty named Jasmine, stuck around the bar, flirting with the only male bartender and gossiping, but otherwise he was alone. As the current crowd around the bar cleared out to dance or settled in with their drinks, the brunette bartender walked back over to him. "Ready for something better?" she asked, gesturing with her head towards his drink.

"What would you recommend?" Brian asked, having spent enough time in bars during his life to know that the bartenders often knew what the best drinks in a club were.

"Hmmm," the brunette hummed thoughtfully. Then she grinned, grabbed a bottle of something and poured, sliding it over. "Jack Daniels, on the rocks," she said. "Probably a little more your speed." Brian nodded and tipped the drink back, taking a speculative swallow. She waited patiently for his verdict, posture confidant.

"Not too bad," he admitted after a moment and set the glass back down. She rolled her eyes in exasperation and settled her arms against the bar.

"So what do you normally drink?"

"Coronas," Brian admitted.

"That trash," came the reply. "Why?"

"Some friends I'm trying to forget got me hooked," Brian replied and she nodded, expression knowing.

"Got it. Well why don't we see if I can find you something you like by the end of the night?" she suggested.

"Sounds good to me." He hesitated a moment before saying, "I'm Brian O'Conner."

"Tiffany Boswell," came the friendly reply.

"Nice to meet you, Tiffany," Brian said.

"The pleasure's all mine," she said with an easy smile. "After all, it isn't every day I get to make a guy a girly drink and he doesn't whine about it afterwords."

"I asked for it," Brian told her with a shrug. "So it's my own fault if I don't like it."

"So you take responsibility for your own crap. _Nice."_ Tiffany was called away by a customer, likely a regular from the easy way they chatted with one another, but returned a couple minutes later. "Ready for something new?" she asked but Brian shook his head, taking another sip of his drink. "Alright. Let me know when you are."

"Hey, I have a question for you," Brian said, just as she turned away from him to go back to work. "Is there a reason why there's extra bouncers hanging around here?"

"Are you a cop or something?" Tiffany asked, eyebrows arching to her hairline. "Cause we've had extra bouncers for a few days now and nobody else has noticed."

"Former cop," Brian admitted and was glad that she didn't push for more information. "So what happened?"

"One of the full time dancers got grabbed from behind here a few nights ago," Tiffany told him, leaning close and keeping her voice low. "The big boss put the security on high alert, but he refuses to call the police and have them check the situation out."

"Any reason why he wouldn't want to cops involved?"

"No idea," Tiffany replied. "I've only worked here a couple months. The only reason I know he won't call the police is because I overheard him arguing with one of the other dancers about it when I came into work today."

Brian frowned as the bartender turned away to clean some glasses. That was strange. Even if a club owner was involved in some shady business, he wasn't likely to ignore the fact that one of his full time dancers had been kidnapped. Did the owner have something to do with the kidnapping or was he being blackmailed over something he didn't want the police to discover? Either one was a possibility. Still, Brian wasn't a cop anymore. If he kept poking around to discover what was going on, he could land himself and his friends in some serious trouble. Pushing the mystery aside, Brian finished his drink as Suki pushed her way through the club to him. "Come on," she yelled over the beat of a new song as Tej stepped up to the bar and ordered a drink. "Dance with me!" Brian grinned and allowed her to tug him onto the dance floor, determined to have some fun.

Four songs later, Brian handed Suki back to Tej and made his way back towards the bar. Rome had left ten minutes ago with a busty, dark haired woman. Brian hoped they were going back to her place instead of the houseboat he lived on with Rome because he didn't want to find a different place to stay tonight. Tiffany crossed over when she saw him, wiping off a glass. "Ready to try something new?" she asked and he nodded at her. "Let me see what I can do for you." After a minute of consideration, she slid a green Heineken bottle across the counter after popping the top. Brian took a sip and then lifted the bottle in toast to her, making her grin. The drink wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it was good enough that he could tolerate it.

He lingered by the bar for another hour, taking his time going through his drink, and then paid his tab, taking the time to say goodbye to Tiffany. The club was slowly beginning to clear out as the clock headed closer and closer towards morning, so he wasn't the only one taking his leave. Tej and Suki were still on the floor, but Jimmy had left a half an hour ago and most of Suki's friends had cleared out in the past forty minutes, leaving in groups of twos or threes. The air outside was still warm, a light breeze slipping through his short hair as he made his way to the parking garage to the left of the club to pick up his car. He and Rome had drove separately since they both knew that Rome would probably try to pick up a girl and Brian didn't want to be left without a ride.

Inside the vehicle, Brian sat for a moment, hands resting on the steering wheel. What Tiffany had told him in the club was still swirling around in his head. Something strange was going on behind the scenes in Dark Magic, and while he knew he should stay out of it, he couldn't just let it go. Somebody's life was at steak, and Brian knew what it felt like to be left high and dry when things took a turn for the worst. It had happened to him in LA, when he'd thrown away his entire career for people who'd become family to him, and a girl he'd fallen in love with. He didn't intend to let that happen to anyone else if he could prevent it.

Mind made up, Brian pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, searching for the card he'd tucked in there earlier. When Jimmy had done his official sweep of Brian's precious Skyline, he'd found a business card with Bilkins' name and a phone number printed in black ink on it. Brian wasn't sure why the man had left some way that he could be contacted, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He pulled the card free and unlocked his phone, dialing the correct number. It rang twice and then Bilkins picked up, saying, "It's awful early in the morning for a telemarketer."

"It's not early if you're a street racer," Brian replied, grinning a little at the FBI agent's sense of humor.

"Brian O'Conner," Bilkins mused, sounding a little surprised. "I have to admit, when I left that card I didn't think you'd ever use it. Have you managed to get yourself in trouble already?"

Brian wanted to resent that assumption, but considering what Bilkins knew about him, it was a fair one. "No," he replied. "But I found some trouble for you."

"I'm listening," was the reply.

"There's a new It Club in town since Verone got busted and the Pearl closed its doors. It's called Dark Magic."

"I've heard of it."

"I was in there tonight and it was crawling with bouncers. One of the bartenders told me that one of the dancers was grabbed from behind the club a few nights ago."

"That sounds like a matter for the local police," Bilkins said.

"Not if the owner isn't letting anyone report it," Brian replied quickly, hoping to keep the other man from hanging up on him.

There was a pause and then Bilkins said, "Get to the point, O'Conner."

"The bartender told me that she overheard one of the dancers and the owner of the club arguing when she came into work tonight. She said that the owner wasn't letting the dancer report the incident, and we both know that there's no good reason for him to do so."

"Do we?" Bilkins challenged. "From what I understand, this is all from second-hand sources and assumptions you've made. There's nothing here to warrant and investigation."

"Verone left a power vacuum behind when we grabbed him," Brian snapped back, frustrated. "Someone has to fill it, and what's going on behind the scenes at the club might have something to do with that. At the very least here, you'd be saving a girl's life." He paused and leaned his head against the steering wheel. "You have to know that I'm not trying to lead you on a wild goose chase here."

"I'm not sure what I know, O'Conner," Bilkins replied and Brian let out a defeat sigh. "Look, I'm tired and I had a long day yesterday. Let me get my much needed rest and I'll do some checks on the club this afternoon, discretely, and get back to you. Until then, try to stay out of trouble."

"Okay," Brian agreed and hung up the phone, tossing it into the passenger seat and starting up the car. He needed to get back to the houseboat and get some rest so he'd be awake enough to help Jimmy open up Tej's garage in the morning. Hopefully Rome hadn't taken his latest one night stand back to the houseboat, because if he had, Brian was going to be stuck sleeping in his car.


	3. Chapter 3

_Miami, Florida  
July 13, 2003_

Tia was half asleep, still slumped uncomfortably in the folding chair she'd woken up in, when she heard voices from the top of the stairs. "How's it going?" an unfamiliar man's voice questioned, tone not quite low enough to prevent his voice from carrying.

"Not bad," came the response.

"Have you talked to her yet?"

"Yeah. I gave her the cleaned up version of what's going to happen, told her she's going to walk away from this, so I think she'll cooperate," Mike said and Tia forced herself to remain calm, keeping her breathing deep and even as a prickle of unease raced up her spine. Something fishy was going on here, and Tia was getting the impression that Mike had been lying when he'd told her that she'd walk away from this.

"Good. Just don't get attached to the girl this time, okay?"

"I've got it all under control. I promise," was Mike's reply. "You've got nothing to worry about."

"That's what I like to hear." There was the sound of a hand clapping against someone's shoulder and then footsteps walking away. Tia thought she heard a door close but she kept herself still, unsure whether both of the men had left. It was lucky that she did because a full minute later she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She continued to keep her breathing as deep and even as possible, body relaxed and eyes closed. She'd grown up in a family with two younger brothers and a hyperactive beagle, so Tia had the art of pretending to be asleep down to a science.

The footsteps paused next to her and she heard Mike sigh. "It's really too bad," he said. "You're awfully pretty." Part of Tia wished that he would have specified what was really too bad. The rest of her was screaming that she didn't want to know.

A hand shook her gently and Tia snapped her eyes open with a startled sounding gasp. "Hey," Mike said, holding his hands up as if to signal that he was harmless. "It's okay. It's just me."

"What's going on?" Tia asked, trying to slur her voice and sound disoriented.

"We're going to move you to the safe house," Mike explained patiently. "I told you that we were going to do that this morning, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Tia said, giving him a weak smile. "Sorry."

"No problem," Mike replied, stepping behind her so that he could untie her hands. "I know it can be a little disorienting if you wake up somewhere you aren't expecting to be." The rope slithered off her hands and Tia let out a sigh of relief, letting her arms fall on her lap and rubbing her wrists as Mike got to work on the ropes around her ankles. "Are you okay?" he questioned when he glanced up and noticed what she was doing. "I didn't tie them too tight, did I?"

"I'm fine," Tia replied, feeling a bit like she was reassuring an anxious little brother. "My arms are just a little stiff from being in one place most the day." She had been able to move a couple times, Mike taking her to and from the small, windowless bathroom that was located somewhere behind her, but the human body wasn't meant to be still for that long. He nodded, still looking a little worried and untied her other ankle before standing and offering her a hand. Tia took it and he pulled her to her feet, steadying when she wobbled a bit. Her legs had fallen asleep from sitting still for so long. "Thanks," she told him, smile a little more genuine this time. Maybe she was making too much of the situation. Mike seemed like the kind of guy whose emotions were written on his face, and Tia hadn't seen any sign that he was lying to her.

Several sets of heavy sounding footsteps approached and Tia turned, taking in the sight of two men with automatic weapons, ski masks hiding their facial features. She tensed and Mike said, "It's okay. These guys are just a precaution. There's nothing to worry about."

"O-Okay," Tia said, voice wavering. Then she flinched back as one of them produced a red handkerchief.

"Just standard procedure," Mike said, stepping forward to take it from the figure. "We have to blindfold you so you won't be a risk to us later, okay?" Tia swallowed hard and nodded. He smiled gently at her and stepped forward, tying the handkerchief over her eyes. "Can you see anything?"

"N-No," Tia replied, breathing picking up nervously. Her breath hitched and she flinched as a large hand grabbed her arm.

"It's okay," Mike soothed, tone relaxed. "He's just guiding you so that you don't trip."

Tia was led forward slowly. After a few steps, a rough voice near her ear said, "We've reached the stairs."

"There's twelve of them," Mike added from somewhere behind her. "Just take them nice and slowly. We don't want you to fall." Tia nodded and then cautiously moved forward, heart pounding as she was guided carefully up the stairs. She stumbled on the last one, wobbling a bit on the last step before the hand on her arm steadied her. "Nicely done," Mike said, voice bright. "Now just a few more steps and then you can sit for a bit while we drive to our new location, okay?"

"Yeah," Tia agreed breathlessly.

"Just one step up to get inside, Ma'am," a new voice said respectfully, a gloved hand at her arm guiding her into the car. Tia settled carefully on a seat and allowed the man to buckle her in, keeping her hands folded on her lap as the door slammed. There was the sound of several other doors opening and closing and the vehicle shifted around a bit as people got inside. Then the engine started and the vehicle gaze a lurch before moving smoothly away from whatever building she'd spent the day in. Tia tried to relax back into the seat, knowing there was nothing she could do to escape without getting herself killed. For the time being, she might as well sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

* * *

 _"There had better be something wrong here Bilkins, because we're taking information from a traitor about this."_

* * *

 _Tej's Garage, Miami, Florida  
July 16, 2003_

His Skyline was back in racing condition. That brought a grin to Brian's face as he stroked a gentle hand over the paint job. After getting busted by the police, Brian had thought he would never see his precious car again. He owed Bilkins big time for bringing the Skyline back to him, and he was likely to owe the man more for looking into what was going on at Dark Magic. He only hoped that his suspicion hadn't been drink fueled paranoia instead of something that actually deserved, at the very least, the attention of the local police department.

"I heard that you're back in racing shape," Suki's voice called as she stepped out of Tej's office. She'd gone in close to an hour ago, during her boyfriend's lunch break, and Brian didn't want to think about what they had been doing in there.

"Ready to leave you in the dust," Brian replied with a smirk that had the woman rolling her eyes and flipping her dyed, dark blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Just you wait, Brian O'Conner. I'll be so far ahead of you that your head'll spin."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Brian teased, dancing away from Suki's playful smack with a laugh. Part of him was still worried about the tip he'd given Bilkins but the playful banter with Suki had relaxed muscles he hadn't even realized were tensed.

"I'll make a believer out of you, Bullitt," Suki challenged.

"I'm sure you will," Brian said, grin never leaving his face as he leaned over fearlessly to kiss her cheek.

"Hey, do I have to do all the work around here?" Rome called indignantly as he rolled out from underneath some kind of battered looking, muddy Toyota.

"Just think of it as making up for all the work you didn't do this morning," Brian retorted with a grin. Rome had come into work two hours later, wearing the same clothing he'd been wearing the night before. He'd claimed that he hadn't paid attention on the way to his one night stand's apartment and hadn't gotten lost on the way to the garage, but Brian wasn't sure he believed that. He thought that Rome had passed out at her place before he'd bothered to set an alarm to wake him up in time for work. Brian could use that the next time he did something stupid, because if he teased his friend about it today, Rome had a whole arsenal he could fall back on in response.

"Not cool, man. Not cool," Rome called back and Brian turned his grin towards Suki.

"Sorry Suki," he apologized with exaggerated sorrow in his tone. "I'd love to chat but I gotta get back to work before poor, abused Rome over there falls over from heat exhaustion." Suki laughed and Rome called his friend something uncomplimentary under his breath, shaking his head.

"See you later then," Suki said, rising up on her toes to kiss Brian's cheek before she sauntered off.

Brian returned to place the finishing touches on his baby while Rome finished up with the Toyota. Tej came out to join them after Suki pulled away, shirt unbuttoned further than it had been when he'd come into work that morning. Rome and Brian exchanged knowing grins but didn't say anything to their boss about it. Tej could take some good natured heckling, and give back as good as he got, but the garage was too busy today for any goofing off. They had half a dozen cars scheduled for oil changes and basic maintenance this afternoon because of a miscommunication between Jimmy and Brian, something that happened every once in a while. Jimmy had thought Brian had meant a different day when he'd done the scheduling and Brian had thought the same thing about Jimmy's scheduling. Tej had laughed off the mistake but it had left them with a lot of extra work to do on Jimmy's day off.

They finished up an hour after the sun had set. The last customer drove off with his car and they started cleaning up the mess they'd made of Tej's garage, the music turned up to a level that would have annoyed the neighbors, had they not grown used to the sheer volume of Tej's clean up music years ago. The cleaning was finished in half and hour and Tej killed the music, along with all but the security lights, as Suki pulled up. "You're gonna set Bri and me up with a race tonight, right baby?" Suki called, stepping out of her newest creation.

"I'll see what I can do," Tej replied. "But I ain't makin' any promises. You're just about the only one crazy enough to race Bullitt anymore."

"Then find some out of towners," Suki suggested, motioning Brian and Rome over to admire her latest design. She'd been working on it since they'd started on the Verone deal and had put the finishing touches on it a week ago, but had refused to let anyone see it until now. The Nissan Fairlady Z was a wicked looking machine and Suki had every right to be proud of it.

" _Damn_ , that looks nice," Rome said, circling the vehicle.

"It should after all the work I put into it," Suki replied with a toss of her hair and a pleased grin.

"It looks great," Brian told her honestly and she turned her smile towards him.

"It'll look even better when you're left in the dust." They all laughed and Tej hung up the phone, turning back towards them.

"No luck yet you two. Jimmy says we don't have any non-natives hanging around. Maybe we'll have a couple show up by the end of the night," he called to them. Suki nodded and Brian lifted a hand in acknowledgement.

"We'll wait if we have to," he said and Tej nodded, snapping his phone open and lifting it to his ear again as it started ringing.

"Yeah?" they heard him say as he started walking towards the front of the garage to shut the overhead doors. They grumbled down slowly, cutting off outside light. Suki yanked her phone out from somewhere, illuminating their path to the back door while Tej headed towards the office without the use of any light at all. They all made it outside without any mishaps, aside from Rome banging his shins on a chair and almost knocking it over, and Brian made sure the door was locked behind them. If someone wanted to rob Tej, there was no sense in making their job easier.

"See you in a couple hours?" Suki questioned and Brian nodded.

"I'll pull my baby out and be ready to race when I get there," he told her.

"Good." Suki waved to both of them and then sauntered off to grab Tej. She'd drop him off with Jimmy and the two of them would set up the course and gather the racers for tonight's event.

"Man, we need to get the GPS shit pulled out of the Spyder so I can race," Rome said as the two of them headed for the houseboat. "It ain't fair that you're havin' all the fun."

"We'll start on it tomorrow," Brian promised and Rome grinned, clapping a quick hand on Brian's shoulder before leading the way into their home. Brian let Rome head into the shower first, practically vibrating from the anticipation that always overwhelmed him before a race. He paced the length of the houseboat, trying to work off some of the extra energy. He made the loop twice before forcing himself to stop, grabbing an almost overripe banana off the counter and heading out to the deck of the boat to eat it. The low hum of crickets chirping could barely be heard over the hum of evening traffic, the sound allowing Brian to relax some. The bathroom door swung open in the houseboat behind him and Brian headed back inside to take his turn in the shower.

The water was ice cold, making him flinch when he stepped under the spray, and he scrambled to get clean as fast as possible. He was shivering when he stepped out, searching around the small space for a dry towel. He or Rome needed to do laundry sometime soon. Not only were they running out of clean towels, but they were also running out of clean clothes. Neither one of them were particularly fond of doing laundry, so most the time it just piled up until they were out of clothing and had been wearing the same pair of pants for four days. It drove Suki nuts, but what annoyed her more was that Tej didn't see the problem with their bad habit.

"Hey bro, we're gonna have to do laundry soon," Brian called, dressing and stepping outside the bathroom.

"Not it!" Rome called back from where he was standing outside. Brian rolled his eyes but didn't argue. There was plenty of time to convince his friend to do the laundry later.

Bilkins called while Brian and Rome were getting ready to leave for the race. Rome answered Brian's cell phone because he happened to be standing next to it and had no respect for privacy when it came to his best friend. "Yo, who is this?" Brian heard his friend say. There was a prolonged period of silence and Brian turned around from where he was doing the dishes that had piled up over the last couple of busy days. Rome had a look on his face that was a strange mixture of confusion and disgust as he listened to whatever the person on the other end of the line said. After another minute he said, "Gimme a minute. I'll put 'im on." Then he silently held the phone out to Brian.

He took it and lifted it to his ear, saying, "Yeah?"

"I did some digging like you asked," Bilkins' voice replied.

"And?" Brian prompted after a moment of silence.

"There's nothing there for us to investigate," came the reply. "There's nothing fishy in the books, no reports of suspicious activity, and, most important of all, no missing dancers. They all either came in for their shifts or called in sick. It was a dead end, O'Conner."

"The bartender wasn't lying," Brian protested. "There's a dancer missing, and someone's trying to cover it up."

"You don't have any proof, Brian," came the exasperated sounding response. "All you have is the word of a bartender who overheard part of a conversation, and you know that's never going to fly in a court of law." Brian let out a frustrated yell, slamming his fist down hard on the cheap countertop hard enough to make the dishes in the sink rattle. "Let it go, O'Conner," Bilkins advised from the other end of the line. "You're not a cop anymore and there's no proof of anything unusual happened at Dark Magic."

"I'm not crazy Bilkins," Brian retorted. "There's something shady going on at that club." He hesitated a moment and then added, "You know I'm right."

"No," came the level reply. "I don't."

" _Damnit,_ Bilkins," Brian snapped. "I'm not crazy and I'm not jumping at shadows. Trust me on this."

The pause that followed that plea felt heavy, Brian's heart hammering to get through his rib cage. Realistically he knew that he hadn't given the FBI agent much of a reason to trust his word. He'd turned his back on the law during the truck jacking case in LA, ran from the police, and then deliberately left information out of his reports during the Verone mission. Anyone in their right mind would hesitate when asked to trust Brian's judgement. "I do," Bilkins said, his voice breaking through Brian's worried thoughts. "But the agency doesn't. They're not going to act on any tip you give them unless the evidence can be paraded in front of their faces."

"Okay," Brian said, determined.

"Don't do anything that will get you in trouble, O'Conner."

"I won't. I'm just going to talk to a dancer." He hung up before Bilkins had time to protest his plan. "Hey Rome, how do you feel about swinging by the club after the races?"

"Sure thing man!" came the cheerful response and Brian grinned. Then he flipped his phone back open and dialed a new number. Monica had said that she was off work for the week. Maybe she'd be willing to help him do a little subtle investigating.

"Hello?" Monica's voice was curious but guarded when she answered after the third ring. She didn't sound as if Brian had woken her up, but that didn't mean anything. He knew from experience how easy it was to pretend to be something you weren't when other people couldn't see you.

"Hey Monica," he replied easily. "It's Brian. I was wondering if you would help me do some subtle investigating tonight."

"You know, most people ask a girl to a restaurant for the first date," came her humor filled reply.

"I'm not hearing a no," Brian replied brightly.

"Yes, I'll help you," Monica told him with a laugh. "Where should I meet you at?"

"This club called Dark Magic. It took the place of the Pearl once Verone got picked up," Brian told her. "One of the bartenders overheard a dancer protesting in the owner's office because he wouldn't let her report another girl missing."

"Isn't that something the real police should be investigating?" Monica asked, sounding worried.

"Ordinarily, yeah," Brian admitted. "But the police and the FBI won't take my word for it. I have to get some proof so they'll investigate."

"Let's make a deal," Monica told him. "I'll help you investigate, but once we turn in whatever evidence we find, then you'll let the officials do their job while you take me on a proper date."

"Deal," Brian agreed.

"Good. What time should I meet you at Dark Magic?"

"Better make it at two."

"I'll see you then," Monica promised.

"Yo, Brian!" Rome yelled from outside. "Get off the phone and get out here or you'll be late for your race."

"I've gotta go," Brian said, already heading for the door. He hung up to the bright sound of Monica's laughter.


	4. Chapter 4

_Miami, Florida  
July 14, 2003_

Nadine Wallis sat in front of a vanity mirror, brushing long auburn hair with patient strokes. Her blue eyes were focused on her half-brother in the mirror. David Henderson had his muscled arms folded over his chest and a dark scowl fixed on his face. His own hair, strawberry blonde, was far too short to have a brush taken to it. "Well?" Nadine demanded, placing down the brush and reaching for the cup of bobby pins she kept fully stocked at all times.

"Your fiance is going to ruin this," David told her.

"Michael is not going to ruin this for us," Nadine responded, accent becoming more pronounced at the sudden swell of irritation she felt. "He knows what is at stake here and he will play his part as he has been instructed to."

"Like he did last time?" David challenged and Nadine let go of her handful of bobby pins, allowing them to scatter across the vanity table so that she could maneuver her wheelchair around in order to look her brother in the face.

"He has learned his lesson," she said, eyes cold.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, I am," Nadine replied with a flip of her hair. "And I will not have you questioning Michael's abilities again." Satisfied that the conversation was finished, she turned her chair around and focused on doing up her hair again. "Has the ultimatum been sent to Jeremy yet?"

"Serena is taking it in this evening."

"Is it typed?"

"Naturally."

"And the document?"

"Never saved. I'm not a fool Nadine. I have done these things before, for our father."

"Our father was a fool who could not remain faithful to a single woman. His judgement is not something I would ever sink so low as to trust blindly and my operation is not run the same way his foolish endeavor was," Nadine replied coldly. David's expression darkened but he didn't bother to respond, turning on his heel and prowling silently out of the room. Nadine huffed and jabbed a bobby pin into her hair hard enough that it stung when she accidentally jabbed it against her skull. She hissed under her breath and scowled at the mirror, tears welling in her eyes. "Damn you David," she hissed, placing the finishing touches on her bun and then wheeling her way towards the kitchen.

The conversation with her half-brother had brought back bad memories. Nadine hadn't been born paralyzed from the waist down. Instead she'd been a lively young girl with dreams of becoming a professional ballet dancer. She hadn't known, at the time, that her father didn't just run an important company. He also had an illegal side business that involved selling drugs to interested buyers. He made the mistake of double crossing a dangerous man and the response had been devastating for his twelve year old daughter. A gunman had shot Nadine through the lower back during a class at the ballet studio she went to regularly. The first week or two after that was hazy in her mind, but she remembered that her father had never come to visit. When she'd finally been told that she would never walk again, hurt had transformed into resentment. Eventually Nadine had come to hate her father.

David was a different story. He was the illegitimate child, never placed into danger due to their father's poor scheming. Instead he remembers cheerful smiles, hired muscle hovering around the outside of the nice townhouse their father had stashed his mistress and son, and hushed birthdays. Despite the fact that he'd known that his existence was a carefully kept secret, she believed that David had been better off than she had been. Some days Nadine resented him for that fact, especially when he brought up their father's way of running what was now her business. David had placed her father on a pedestal, using comparisons to subtly criticize his half-sister's methods. His attacks on her had increased ever since she'd started dating Michael.

Michael Young was purely American, but Nadine doubted that David's problem with him lay in her fiance's nation of origin. Her half-brother's mother had been American, and when he was tired, David tended to slip into her thick, southern accent and he had no personal problem with Americans. Nadine believed that his problem with Michael had to do with a combination of distrust and resentment. The distrust was natural, not something Nadine could begrudge him. Their operation was highly illegal and they would all be locked away should anyone discover what they were doing. That meant that bringing anyone into their operation was extremely risky because there was always a chance that the new member was really a federal agent in disguise. Before even agreeing to go on a date with Michael, Nadine had done numerous background checks to make sure he wasn't going to betray her. She'd even had him shadowed for a few days. She was sure that Michael was not working for the government, but David had always been more suspicious, probably do to the fact that he'd been kept a secret from society during the formative years of his childhood. That was forgivable.

The resentment was harder for Nadine to accept. Initially she had understood, and even tolerated David's resentment. It was only natural for her half-brother to dislike how easily Michael had accepted their business and how willingly he had become a part of it when he had asked Nadine to marry him after five months of them dating. The girl that David had fallen in love with two years ago, April, had been unable to accept their illegal business. David had been forced to eliminate her when she'd threatened to call the police on them, and the act still weighed heavily on him. Therefore, Nadine had accepted his resentment for a time, but had expected him to move beyond that by the time she accepted Michael's proposal. Instead the resentment had only gotten worse, and Nadine had grown less and less tolerant about it.

Things had come to a head a month ago, when the first altercation with Jeremy DeWade occurred. DeWade had been hired personally by Nadine when he'd first opened Dark Magic in Miami. At the time, Carter Verone had still run the darker side of the city, but Nadine had decided to make the attempt to move her operation into the city. She had not had any desire to take over the entire city, but she had wanted another route to move her product. Verone hadn't been pleased by the situation, so the Argentinian had decided to put pressure on DeWade. The club owner had crumpled like a piece of paper, allowing thousands of dollars of product to be lost to an opponent and part of Nadine's operation in Miami to be compromised. Nadine had responded accordingly, taking three of DeWade's best employees. She had locked them away and threatened to kill them slowly unless DeWade agreed to pay her back for what had been lost. It was the first serious operation that Michael had been involved and things had quickly fallen to pieces.

When DeWade refused to fold in the face of the pressure Nadine was applying, she had ordered the first of the hostages to be tortured and killed. David had done the job while Michael stood guard and another man filmed the entire process. Her fiance had left part way through but Nadine had forgiven him. This was his first time witnessing violence like this outside of the world of television and torture was enough to make any new observer squeamish. She hadn't anticipated any further problems from him. That had been a mistake.

Michael had been put in charge of guarding the remaining two hostages, but after what he had witnessed David doing, he no longer had a stomach for the affair. Nadine hadn't noticed the change in his attitude in time and he'd called in an anonymous tip. At the time, they'd been residing in New York and the local police had poured into the safe house they'd set up, arresting the two guards that had been inside and returning the two living hostages to Miami. Nadine had been furious and had threatened break up with Michael, but after speaking to him, she had changed her mind. It had been her mistake that had, ultimately, led to their plan's undoing. She had thrown Michael into a situation he had not been prepared for and expected him to behave as if he had always faced what had happened as if it was natural. David had not been so forgiving. He had found fault solely in Michael which, coupled with natural distrust and resentment, only made him dislike his half-sister's fiance more.

The situation between the two siblings was reaching a breaking point. Nadine had recognized that, and come up with a plan to act accordingly. Since Verone had been arrested by the DEA, there was no chance that any competition would place pressure on DeWade. Nadine had involved him in the operation again, intending to set up camp in Miami. She'd then intended to put David in charge of the southern portion of their operation, hoping that distance would soothe the broken bond between the two of them. She hadn't anticipated DeWade double-crossing her. Now she had to force DeWade back in line and actively figure out how to eliminate her brother, who had finally moved past the point of forgiveness with his barbs in this job. It was not the way Nadine had hoped this affair would go, but she could adapt, and soon she would have Michael. Everything would be just fine and Nadine would get her happily ever after.

* * *

 _"You have seven days to pay up, Mr. DeWade, or your dancer will die cursing your name."_

* * *

 _Miami, Florida  
July 16, 2003_

Tej pushed his way through the crowd as soon as Brian and Rome arrived, excited fans swarming the blonde former cop. It had been a while since Brian had visited the local races and apparently the crowds had missed him. "I've got a race lined up for you and Suki," Tej told him. "A couple guys from out of town are looking for a race and they didn't want to try to find two other racers. You two are the last race of the night."

"Thanks man," Brian said and Tej grinned at him before diving back into the crowd to start the first race.

Brian and Rome pushed their way through the crowd as people gathered to see the first start. Suki waved at them but didn't move from her place at Tej's side, his arm around her waist. She'd dressed up for the occasion, wearing a blue and silver crop top and a pair of bedazzled shorts. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders and her nails were painted a dark purple. The look was drawing appreciative glances from many of the men in the crowd but she ignored them in the same way she disregarded every distraction during a race. Her full attention was focused on Tej, a brilliant smile sitting comfortably on her face. Brian smiled, glad to see his friends happy, and followed Rome close to the front of the crowd.

The racers tonight were a decent bunch. Slap Jack, known to most of his friends as Jack or Jackie-boy, had raced against Brian during the race that had involved the now infamous bridge stunt that Tej had pulled. Though he'd lost to both Brian and Suki, he'd taken the defeat with good humor. Brian wouldn't say that they were friends, but they were friendly. Next to him was Orange Julius, another local racer involved in the bridge stunt race. Julius could be arrogant and, at times, sexist, but he was tolerable as a person and a pretty good racer. On his right was an out of town racer who, judging by the bouncing he was doing next to his car, either had a bad case of nerves every time he raced or he was completely new to the entire street race scene. On the far end of the lineup was Danny. Daniel Ortega was young, at twenty, but he developed new skills with every race. He also took defeat well, which was uncommon when it came to racers new to the Miami scene. Brian had no doubt that Danny would be a struggle to beat in a couple years, but right now he was still learning.

"Back up, back up!" Tej yelled, motioning the crowd away from the cars. Drivers handed in the payout and slipped into their vehicles, most of them looking focused. The out of town racer was the only exception. His fingers were tapping away on the steering wheel of his brilliant orange Supra, which sent a pang of nostalgia through Brian. The vehicle looked an awful lot like the orange Supra he'd put together from scrap during his undercover mission in LA, not that he was likely to ever see that car again.

Once the crowd was backed up out of the danger zone, Tej turned his attention back to the crowd. "Are you ready?" he questioned, pointing to Slap Jack. The engine of his new vehicle, a Corvette C5, was revved in affirmation. Tej grinned and turned to Orange Julius next. "Are you ready?" Julius lifted a hand to wave at the crowd, soaking up the cheers, and revved the engine of his RX-7. "Are you ready?" The Supra growled an affirmative and Tej turned his grin to Danny. "Are you ready?" Danny revved the engine of his Mitsubishi Eclipse with an eager grin and Tej's expression turned serious as he stepped back and lifted a hand. The crowd noise fell to a low murmur in anticipation of the race about to start. There was a pause and then Tej's arm swung down, setting the racers off.

Most of the crowd follow after, chattering excitedly, but a few lingered. Among them were members of the next couple races, like Suki, Brian, and another Miami local named Jose. Others weren't interested in running after cars or would wait and head towards the finish line in a minute or so. Suki made her way through the thin crowd, calling, "So who do you think is gonna win?"

"Jack or Danny," Brian theorized and she made a face at him.

"You've gotta pick one, Bri."

"Fine," he said with an amused grin. "Slap Jack, is gonna cross first."

"I'm saying Danny," Rome said, jumping into the conversation. "Kid's good."

"Not good enough to take Jack yet," Brian replied. "Who's your guess, Suki?"

"I'm with you," she said, slipping her arms through each of the guys and pulling them along towards where the finish line for the night was. "Danny'll get there, but not tonight."

Five minutes later Suki and Brian were proved right as Slap Jack flew across the line a full car length in front of Danny. The crowd cheered, swelling around the victor as Danny jumped out of the car with a grin. "Nice race, man," he called as Orange Julius limped over the finish line with a shredded tire. There was no sign of the out of town driver, but that wasn't unusual. Most drivers from out of town tended to be amateurs who'd come to Miami for their vacation and Brian doubted that the fourth for this particular race was any different.

Jimmy's vehicle took off to make sure that there was no need to call an ambulance for the missing driver while Tej led the crowd towards the starting line. The second set of racers lined up, all sub-par racers that didn't expend a large amount of time and energy when working on their vehicles. The crowd was a less excited about this race but they still created a low hum of anticipatory noise as Tej waited for Jimmy to call in and give him the all clear. Brian couldn't hear Tej's phone ring over the noise but he saw the other man lift it to his ear, mouth moving as he said something. A moment later he snapped his phone shut and stuck it in his pocket with a grin. He asked if each of the racers was ready, as he always did, and sent them on their way by swinging his arm down. The cars roared off, leaving the racers for the final race to head towards their cars and prepare.

Brian ran a hand across the front of his baby with a happy, tuneless hum before opening the door and slipping inside. "You ready for this, bro?" Rome questioned, leaning against the Skyline.

"More than," Brian replied with an eager grin. Rome grinned back and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Knock 'em dead."

"I intend to." Rome laughed and sauntered away, hands stuck in his pockets. He paused to flirt with a couple scantily clad girls who giggled and flirted back. Brian rolled his eyes and glanced over at Suki, who was polishing the paint on her new vehicle and chatting with her friends. They were the only peopled that lingered behind the starting the line, their other two racers probably still scoping out the course so they could match their competitors' home field advantage. Brian wasn't worried. The only real challenge would come from Suki. Everyone else would be left in the dust.

Ten minutes later most of the crowd had returned. Brian, Suki, and their two out of town competitors. The blonde former cop smirked and shook his head when he saw the flashy vehicles. The young men driving them looked to be about college age and their vehicles had probably been bought with their parents' money. This type wasn't uncommon in Miami over the college holidays. Kids with enough money to burn that they didn't need to work to pay for their schooling often came to Miami to race for some cheap thrills. Brian enjoyed beating them and taking their money, if for no other reason than because he'd never had everything handed to him.

Brian had grown up in a low income home in Barstow, and part of him resented the children who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths. His parents had never been married, O'Conner being his mother's last name, and Brian had never met his father. Instead he had memories of his mother's string of boyfriends, some of them better than others. He'd learned quickly about whether the men in his mother's life tolerated children or not. When he discovered the bad ones, he did his best to avoid them. He'd met Roman Pearce when one of the particularly bad boyfriends had stuck around longer than any of the others. Brian had taken to climbing out his bedroom window when he couldn't tiptoe around the boyfriend any longer and Rome was just old enough to be given free reign to run around as he pleased. The two of them ran into each other, literally, and quickly became friends. It was a friendship that had lasted, despite the rather large pothole they had encountered when Rome had been sent to prison.

"Are you ready?" Tej asked, motioning to the racer on the far end. An engine revved. "Are you ready?" Another rumble of an engine and Tej turned to Suki. "Are you ready?" Suki revved the engine of her new ride and turned to give Brian a challenging grin. Brian returned it as Tej asked if he was ready and revved his own engine, turning back to look out the windshield. Tej's hand was in the air. Brian pulled in a deep breath and then slowly blew it out. His breathing did not shake. His mind emptied, the anticipation of a race more effective than any meditation technique that he had ever encountered. Tej's hand dropped and the Skyline flew forward, all of Brian's thoughts gone as he focused on the road before him. This was where he felt truly at home.


	5. Chapter 5

_Miami, Florida  
July 17, 2003_

Monica Fuentes waited patiently at the bar of Dark Magic, nursing a drink when Brian arrived, flushed from victory. Suki was behind him, whining playfully about losing to Brian again to anyone who would listen, but her words faded away with a low hum as he took in the sight of the federal agent. There was no denying that Monica was beautiful. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders in caramel streaked curls and her eyes seemed to see straight into his soul when she turned to look at him. She lifted her drink in her direction and, at Brian's left shoulder, Rome said, " _Damn._ " Brian grinned and left his stunned friends, making his way through the already gathered crowd to join his date for the night.

"You look fabulous," he told her and she smiled. "Thank you for doing this," he added in a softer voice and her head dipped slightly in acknowledgement.

"It's gratifying to know that I haven't lost my touch," she replied, turning to face the bar again. "Is the bartender that told you about the missing dancer here?" Brian's gaze skimmed across the two people standing behind the bar, quickly assessing their appearance before shaking his head. Monica hummed and sucked her lower lip into her mouth, nibbling on it for a moment before releasing it. "Keep an eye out for her," she ordered. "If she shows up tonight, I want to talk to her." Then she pushed herself up off the bar and smiled at him. "Come dance with me." Brian nodded and followed her on the dance floor.

For the first hour they stuck to the dance floor. Monica was a good dancer partner and Brian found himself entranced by her smile. She was exactly the kind of woman he would have fallen hard for were it not for the fact that he was still head over heels in love with Mia. He was hoping that, in the next few weeks, he would be able to get past Mia, who had plenty of reasons to loathe him, and fall in love with someone that might actually love him back. When they stepped off the dance floor, Monica's face was flushed with exertion and Brian unconsciously leaned forward as if to kiss her for a moment. He yanked himself back before their lips came close to touching, an image of Mia superimposing itself over Monica. Something like guilt curled in his stomach and he turned away, hoping that Monica didn't notice.

"Brian?" she asked, voice concerned, and a slim hand settled on his arm. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he replied, fixing a smile on his face and turning back to meet her eyes. "I think Tiffany's here."

"Are you sure? And who's is Tiffany?"

"The bartender who told me that one of the dancers was missing," Brian replied, completely ignoring her first question.

Monica frowned but didn't press him, instead turning her attention towards the bar. "Which one is she?" Brian motioned towards the brunette bartender and Monica nodded, slipping her arm through his. "Come introduce me."

Brian led the way to the bar and Tiffany smiled at him as she finished up with the customer in front of her. Her smile didn't falter when she noticed Monica. Instead it widened as she approached. "Nice to see you again," she said before turning her attention to Monica. "Be careful with him. He has truly awful tastes when it comes to alcohol."

Her conspiratorial tone made Monica laugh and say, "Thanks for the advice."

"Any time," Tiffany replied. "What can I get for you two?"

"Whatever you think is good," Monica said and Tiffany nodded before turning to Brian.

"And for you?"

"Surprise me," he told her and she arched an eyebrow.

"Still trying to get over the bad memories associated with that crappy brew you usually drink?" Brian nodded as Tiffany turned away and forced himself not to look at Monica. He was betting that she'd read his file in the immediate aftermath of the Verone case, if not during it. If he was right, then Monica could likely guess what Tiffany was talking about and he didn't deserve the pity he'd see written on Monica's face.

Tiffany pushed over their drinks and then had to hurry off to serve someone else. Dark Magic was packed to the gills with people grinding together on the dance floor as music thrummed through the speakers and the space in front of the bar was packed too. Monica and Brian waited, crammed into a corner near the wall, as Tiffany and her fellow bartenders weaved out and around one another while taking orders. Every so often Brian would catch Monica glancing in his direction, as if she wanted to say something to him, but she didn't try to speak over the pounding music. Instead she sipped at her drink and tapped pale nails against the polished wood counter of the bar as they waited for Tiffany to make her way back towards them.

It took half an hour for the bar to clear out enough for the brunette bartender to make her way back over to them. "So I didn't get a proper introduction earlier," Tiffany said, settling a hip against the bar and grinning at them. "I've met Brian and most of his friends, but not you."

"Monica Fuentes," Monica said, offering her hand.

"Tiffany Boswell," came the reply. The two shook hands, measuring each other up for a moment. Then Tiffany smiled and Monica grinned back.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Boswell."

"Tiffany, please," Tiffany replied with a laugh. "I'm just glad that Brian here isn't trying to find a new favorite drink because he's pining over a girl." Brian let out an uncomfortable chuckle, cheeks flushing pink, and ducked his hand to glance down at the bar. He couldn't bring himself to look at Monica, but when he lifted his head Tiffany looked as if she wanted to take back what she'd just said.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, cheeks bright red even under her tan. "I shouldn't have said that. I just...I, uh, thought you two were dating."

"He owes me a date tomorrow," Monica replied, smile in place and expression thoughtful when Brian finally glanced quickly at her. "Tonight we're doing a little digging. Brian happened to mention that you'd told him one of the dancers had been kidnapped but the owner didn't want to report it."

"Are you two cops?" Tiffany asked, expression becoming wary.

"Brian used to be one," Monica told Tiffany. "He wanted to turn in the case to the local police, but he knows they won't take his word unless he has evidence for him. I'm here to help him get that evidence. He tends to get in trouble if he's left unattended."

The suspicion flowed off Tiffany's face and she laughed while Brian rolled his eyes. "Why tell me?" the bartender questioned once she stopped snickering over Brian's inability to stay out of trouble.

"I want to ask you a few questions, just to make sure that no one is jumping to conclusions," Monica told her. "If that's okay with you."

"I'm cool with it," Tiffany replied, leaning closer and adding, "Just don't let my boss know."

"Do you think he'd fire you?" Brian asked and Tiffany shrugged.

"Normally, no. Jeremy's pretty chill as long as you do your job, you know, but he sounded really freaked out by the whole dancer kidnapping. He actually threatened to fire the dancer he was arguing with over the whole affair."

"Do you know which dancer that was?" Monica asked.

"Holly Johnson," came the immediate reply. "She was one of the first dancers hired when he started Dark Magic."

"Is she here tonight?" the federal agent questioned.

"Yeah," Tiffany replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Do you think Brian could talk to her while I asked you about what you overheard?" Monica questioned, leaning forward to rest her elbows against the counter.

"Umm, maybe. Let me see." Tiffany turned and caught the attention of one of the bouncers, motioning him over with her head. He was a serious looking man, built like a linebacker, and the crowd parted for him. Apparently no one was drunk enough to think that crossing this bouncer was a good idea. "Hey Andy, can Brian talk to Holly for a bit?"

"I'll see if she has time," Andy replied, turning and making another path through the ground towards a door on the far end of the dance floor with a sign on it that said _Employees Only_. Brian watched him go as Monica began to walk Tiffany through the details of what she'd overheard. The process would take a while because Monica was going to be fishing out every little detail of what Tiffany had seen and heard. It was a process that Brian had gone through when he was still a beat cop in the LAPD.

Andy came out five minutes later and motioned Brian over to him. The blonde weaved his way through the thick crowd, pausing a few feet away from Andy. "Can I talk to her?"

"Yeah," came the indifferent reply. "Come with me."

The door opened into a chaotic jumble of glitter, feathers, and sweating girls in various states of undress. Rome probably would have been thrilled to be backstage. Brian wasn't. He was trying to do a job, not get distracted by half dressed girls he didn't feel anything for. Andy weaved his way through as several girls scrambled towards the stage, heels clicking sharply with each movement. The bouncer led the way towards the back of the room where a dark skinned woman with dark curls hanging wild and loose around her chin. She looked up when they approached and gold eyes pierced him. Andy motioned him forward and then stepped back a ways, giving them room.

"Holly Johnson?" Brian asked.

"Yeah," she replied, tone confrontational. "What about it?"

"I'm Brian O'Conner," he told her. "I want to ask you about your friend that went missing."

Holly looked as if she was thinking about telling him to fuck off and he waited patiently for that statement, not looking away. After a moment she sighed and motioned him closer. "You a cop?"

"No. Not anymore."

She breathed out another heavy sigh and then stood. "Come on. Let's talk outside." She led the way to the a metal door at the back of the backstage area, lifting the latch and pushing it open. It squealed softly, the sound barely audible under the low roar of the music that made thinking difficult. The door swung shut behind them with a solid sounding click, cutting off the sound of the music completely. "What do you wanna know?"

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Holly looked at her hands and asked, "Where do you want me to start?"

"The dancer who's missing, who is she?"

"Tia," Holly told him. "Tianna Holloway. She came up from Las Vegas after she caught her no good boyfriend cheating on her."

"Walk me through the night she was taken," Brian said and she nodded.

"Okay. It was late, or early I guess." She let out a nervous sounding laugh, shaking her head. "Four-ish. Tia was done with her last song and I'd just got done. I was gonna change and drive 'er home since she doesn't have a car yet. She was waitin' out here for me, like she usually does. I came out to see some guy hasslin' her. She sent me back in to get one of the bouncers, Tony, so we could get rid of the guy. We've done it before." Holly's tone turned defensive, as if she expected Brian to criticize the fact that she'd left her friend alone with a strange guy. He nodded at her to continue. "I went and grabbed Tony. He was really good at getting creepy guys off our backs, you know?"

"Yeah," Brian said when it became obvious that she was waiting for some kind of response.

"Yeah," Holly mumbled, twisting her hands anxious. "Anyway, when Tony and I got back out here, she was gone. I ran back in to grab a phone since my cell was dead and Tony went to the street to see if he could spot Tia. I ran into Jeremy while I was looking for a phone. He asked what happened." Holly paused, looking haunted. "I told him. That's when he told me not to call the cops. He said not to bother. That he'd already called them. He told me to go home."

"Did you?"

"Yeah," Holly replied, tone guilty. "I think I was in shock or something. The next day I realized I hadn't talked to the cops. I came to my shift early and went to talk to Jeremy about it. I figured he'd have the number of someone I could talk to. When I went into his office to ask, he told me that he hadn't called the cops. I told him that I was going to then and he threatened to fire me." Holly let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through her short curls. "I just don't know what to do."

"It's going to be okay," Brian told her, laying a cautious hand against her knee. "You're doing everything you can." Holly nodded but didn't look convinced. "We'll find your friend and get your friend back, but to do that I need to talk to the bouncer that you brought out to get rid of Miss Holloway's unwanted admirer. Can you arrange that?"

"Tony isn't in tonight," Holly said. "He's taken a couple vacation days off after what happened." That sentence set off alarm bells in Brian's head but he forced himself to look calm on the outside so as not to alarm Holly. There was a good chance that he was jumping at shadows, but Bilkins had told him that all the dancers at Dark Magic had been accounted for when one had really been missing. The bouncer who also knew the truth about what had happened might have been reported as taking some vacation days when something else had really happened. The only way to find out was to contact him. "Do you have your phone with you?" Holly asked, completely oblivious to Brian's worry. "I'll give you his number.

Brian handed over his phone and Holly tapped a few buttons on it. A couple of minutes later he had it back with a number and a name for the bouncer; Tony Andretti. "Thank you," he told her and she gave him a weak smile in response.

"Here, let me give you my number too. Then if you think of anything else I need to know, you can contact me." Brian handed the phone back over so that she could put her number in, thanked her again when she handed it back, and held open the back door for her.

Andy was waiting for him back inside, arms folded over his broad chest. "You done here?" he asked and Brian nodded, allowing the bouncer to show him back to the main dance floor. The former cop scanned the room, catching sight of Suki sitting on Tej's lap at one of the tables to his left while Rome was on the dance floor with a couple very pretty brunettes. To his right, Monica and Tiffany were no longer at the bar. Their absence made his heart jump in his chest and he began to push his way through the crowd. He knew Monica was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but he also knew that you could get the jump on anyone if you knew what you were doing. The last thing he wanted to do was to get Monica killed because he was digging around for information about something dangerous.

He was almost to the bar when Monica and Tiffany came out of a side door. Tiffany was scanning the room nervously but Monica made her way through calmly through the crowd towards him. "Let's get out of here," Monica told him, voice as low as she could manage while still being heard over the music. "I have a lot to tell you." Brian nodded, waving good-bye to Tiffany and then slipping an arm around Monica, leading her towards the front door of the club. A couple of the bouncers gave them cursory glances as they left but most people were too wrapped up in one another and the music to notice.

Once they were outside, Monica scanned their surroundings before leading Brian towards a late night coffee shop. He didn't protest, knowing that more people around meant it would be harder for someone to overhear them. They both ordered coffee and headed to one of the cafe tables towards the back of the shop, shifting chairs so their backs were towards the walls out of habit. "Tell me what you learned," Monica ordered, cradling her warm drink between slender fingers, and Brian nodded, placing his own cup on the table.

"I've got a witness that says she saw our missing dancer, Tianna Holloway, right before she was taken," he told her and Monica nodded. "According to Holly Johnson, Holloway had a guy harassing her while she was waiting for Johnson to take her home. Johnson went to get one of the bouncers, Tony Andretti, to get rid of the guy. When the two of them came back, Holloway was gone. Johnson went in to call the cops, ran into the owner, and was told that the cops were on their way so she could go home. She realized later that she hadn't given a statement, went back, and the owner threatened to fire her if she called the cops."

"Did you manage to talk to Mr. Andretti?"

"No. According to Johnson, Andretti's called in his vacation days after what happened. She gave me a number I could reach him at, but I'm not sure it's going to pan out." Monica nodded and took a sip of her drink, expression serious.

"I think you're right to be suspicious," she told him, reaching into her purse and pulling out a handful of papers. "After listening to what your bartender friend could tell me, I convinced her to show me the office. These were inside."

Brian pulled the printouts towards him, scanning them quickly. "These are..." He trailed off, looking at Monica with wide eyes, and she nodded.

"Bank statements for a private off-shore account somewhere," Monica confirmed. "The oldest ones are from a year and a half ago. The newer ones show payments every two weeks. The date I got for the dancer being taken is the exact date the next payment should have gone in."

"So, do you think this'll be enough to convince law enforcement to take my word and do some investigating?" Brian asked.

"I don't know," Monica admitted. "The FBI won't look twice at this if you're the one to bring it, but the Miami-Dade Police Department might look into it. Your record's been wiped clean and they don't have anything against you personally that would prevent them from taking your word with what you've been told."

"So I'll tell them what I've been told tomorrow morning," Brian decided and Monica nodded, lifting the cup towards her mouth.

"So about that date you owe me..." Monica prodded after taking a sip. Brian flushed and glanced awkwardly over her shoulder only to freeze. There was a man staring directly at them with dark hair and dark eyes. His hands were nowhere in sight.

"Yeah," he said, trying to continue the conversation while also figuring out a way to signal to Monica that something was wrong. "We could go to dinner and a movie."

"The classic date," Monica said. "I like it. I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow."

"Great," Brian replied with a smile that felt force. "Can I walk you to your car?" Monica's expression was worried, as if something Brian had said or done had tipped her off to the fact that something was wrong, but she nodded. As the bell above the door of the coffee shop jangled above them, Brian slipped his arm around Monica's race and pulled her close. "There was a guy in the coffee shop staring directly at us. He didn't have a drink and his hands were hidden."

Monica giggled as if he'd just said something hilarious but her eyes were serious as she glanced up at him. She paused and turned, rising up on her tiptoes as if to whisper something into his ear. "He's behind us, trying to lean casually against a building," she murmured and Brian gathered her up in his arms, beaming at her.

"Oh Monica, you say the sweetest things," he announced loudly and Monica laughed.

"Come on, Romeo. Walk me to my car," she said, tucking her arm through his. With their bodies pressed so closely together as they walked at a sedate pace, the man following them couldn't see Monica sending an emergency code to the pager of someone both she and Brian knew they could trust.


	6. Chapter 6

_Miami, Florida  
July 18, 2003_

Andrew Bilkins was enjoying getting a full night's sleep, since he was currently between operations, when his pager went off. He blinked open bleary eyes, fingers scrabbling for the pager as his wife, Melinda, grumbled something under her breath. They'd been living in Miami since the joint operation with the DEA to take down Carter Verone since Bilkins had been intending to transfer after the truck jacking case. FBI relations with the LAPD had soured quickly with the loss of evidence for the case and the fact that Sergeant Nick Tanner had blamed Bilkins for the fact that Brian had flipped on them. It had been best for everyone if Bilkins was somewhere else, and Melinda had family in Miami.

He picked up the pager with clumsy fingers and then muttered a curse under his breath, rolling out of bed. "Andy, what is it?" Melinda slurred out, lifting her head from the pillow. Bilkins smiled at the sight of her bleary, brown eyes and messy, dark hair, leaning over to kiss her gently on the forehead.

"Nothing serious, honey," he reassured her. "Just work."

"Mmmkay," she mumbled, already dropping off to sleep again as she burrowed further under the sheet.

Bilkins' smile faded as he grabbed his cellphone and headed out of the bedroom, already dialing the correct number. In the short time he'd come to know Monica Fuentes, he'd come to respect the fact that she didn't jump at shadows. If she was using the emergency pager code then she'd encountered a serious problem. The phone rang once and then he heard ragged gasps on the other end of the line. "Monica?" he questioned, wondering whether Carter Verone had bought his way out of prison already or not.

"Bilkins, _thank God_ ," she choked out. "Brian's been grabbed by a lunatic."

For a moment Bilkins' mouth moved soundlessly. Then he said, "I need you to go back a little for me. What exactly happened?"

"I'll explain when you get here," Monica told him, voice calming. "I don't want anyone overhearing what I have to say."

"Okay," Bilkins said. "Tell me where."

"I'm at a coffee shop called Cool Beans. It's two streets over from Dark Magic."

"I'll see you soon," Bilkins reassured her before hanging up the phone.

The FBI agent crept back into he and Melinda's bedroom, using the light of the moon that drifted through cracks in the curtains to navigate. He dressed quickly and slipped out, navigating his way through a maze of still packed boxes. Melinda was still setting up the house to her satisfaction so the unpacking process was an ongoing one. The garage was a different story. Melinda had named it his domain and Bilkins had set it up to his specifications within two days. He could make his way through the garage blindfolded, which was good considering it was pitch black and the guy who'd owned the house before Andrew and Melinda had installed the light switch on the opposite side of the garage from the door that connected it to the house.

Instead of crossing for the light switch, Bilkins hit the gently glowing button that opened the garage door and walked blindly towards his car. The street was quiet as he pealed out, making sure to shut the garage door before breaking all speed limits heading for the main road. He knew the coffee shop Monica was talking about because it was frequented by all types of law enforcement. He'd spent a couple afternoons in the shop himself, getting to know his new colleagues. The shop was a half an hour from he and Melinda's new home, but Bilkins intended to get there sooner. He liked O'Conner, despite himself, and Monica was already a good friend. Bilkins had too few friends in Miami to allow them to be hurt.

Monica was sitting in the back of Cool Beans, close to the counter, when Bilkins entered. Her face was pale as milk and the cup of coffee trembled in her hands. The few cops that were hanging around this early in the morning were eyeing her with concern, but so far no one seemed to be willing to approach her. Bilkins quickly crossed the linoleum floor to stand in front of her. "What happened?"

"Brian asked for help investigating Dark Magic," Monica told him, glancing around almost nervously. "I agreed, if for no other reason than to keep him out of trouble." Her fingers tightened around the cup and Bilkins gently took it from her. "I talked to the bartender while he talked to the dancer that the owner was talking to. We found evidence of something fishy going on behind the scenes." Monica pulled in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "Brian was going to turn it in to the police tomorrow morning. We were getting ready to head in for the night when we noticed someone following us. That's when I started to put the emergency code in."

"You said Brian had been taken," Bilkins prodded, placing the coffee cup on the table, and Monica nodded.

"The man started shooting at us. Brian pushed me in front of him and we ran for cover. I made it. Brian didn't. One of the shots clipped him and the guy grabbed him."

"Can you describe the man who took Brian?"

"Yeah," Monica said, folding her hands beneath her chin. "He was tall, probably six foot one or two. His hair was short but I'm not sure what color it was. It had to be light coloring, but it could have been blonde or light brown for all I know. He was wearing a black jacket that he probably ditched right after he grabbed Brian, but he had a light colored sweatshirt underneath." She lifted her hands to brush her hair back, looking exhausted. "That's all I remember."

"That's okay," Bilkins told her. "It's a good starting point." He slipped his phone out of his pocket, glancing at it to type in the correct number as Monica lifted her coffee and took a sip. Her face remained blank even though Bilkins was fairly certain that the drink was ice cold.

"FBI, Miami office," a crisp, female voice said on the other end of the line.

"This is Agent Andrew Bilkins," he said, rattling off his badge number. "I'm reporting a kidnapping in conjunction with a possible case and requesting a team be sent out immediately."

"Just a moment, Agent Bilkins," the woman told him. He waited patiently as Monica continued to drink her coffee, trying not to worry. Brian had a habit of coming of trouble unscathed. His luck would hold out until the FBI figured out what was going on. A minute later, the woman came back on the line. "Where is your current location, agent?"

"I'm standing with a witness at Cool Beans, the coffee shop, just down the street."

"I'm dispatching a team to your location now," the woman told him. "Please stay on the line."

Bilkins nodded, even though the woman on the other end of the line couldn't see her, and turned to Monica. "There's a team coming." Monica nodded, spinning her cup slowly on the table.

A sleek, black car that came out of some action movie pulled up in front of the coffee shop and a Hispanic man stepped out of the passenger side. He was followed by an African American man that likely towered over everyone he encountered slipping out of the driver's seat. The two were dressed in suits, although the Hispanic man's clothing was rumbled, and they stepped in sync as they moved into the coffee shop. "Agent Bilkins?" the African American man asked as Bilkins informed the woman on the phone that the agents had arrived before hanging up. "I'm Agent Stevenson, this is Agent Hernandez. We were dispatched to your position by HQ." They both held out their badges and Bilkins looked over them carefully before nodding.

"We understand that you're reporting a kidnapping," Hernandez said, opening the conversation. Bilkins nodded and directed the agents towards Monica. She could tell them more than he could.

"Where are you going?" Stevenson called after him.

"I'm going to do some digging into a club," Bilkins called back. He knew as well as anyone that time ticked down fast during a kidnapping case. If they didn't find Brian soon, there was a good chance he'd be killed. Especially if the kidnappers found out that he'd been a cop and worked for the FBI. Despite all the trouble that Brian O'Conner had dumped in his lap when he'd let Toretto go and skipped town, Bilkins liked O'Conner. The kid had a good heart and all the makings of a good cop, or an excellent criminal. It would be horrible to see all that potential go to waste. Besides, O'Conner annoyed Markham, who was no less annoying off duty than he had been on the Verone case. That was reason enough to keep the ex-cop around.

Dark Magic wasn't all that difficult to find, even if Bilkins didn't frequent the Miami club scene. The federal agent wasn't all that surprised to see a woman with short, dark hair waiting for him outside the club. "Agent Bilkins?" she questioned and he nodded, glancing at her badge. "I'm Hilary Harper."

"I've heard good things about you," he told her and Harper smiled.

"Stevenson told me that you'd gone to check out a club and Ms. Fuentes gave us the name of it," she told him. "I figured you might want some backup since this case has already gotten a former cop grabbed." Bilkins nodded and led the way into the club.

The interior of Dark Magic was mostly empty, harsh fluorescent lights brought up so that the janitorial staff could see what they were cleaning. One of the men still working, likely one of the bouncers, approached them. "Club's closed," he said, voice cool as he blocked their way.

"FBI," Bilkins said as he and Hilary Harper held out their badges for his inspection. "We need to speak to the owner."

"And to Holly Johnson if she's still here," Harper added. The man glanced at the badges and then nodded, gesturing another man over.

"Andy, take one of these agents to see Miss Johnson if she's still around. I'm taking the other one to see the boss," he said. Andy nodded and Harper followed him towards the back. The bouncer then turned to Bilkins and said, "Follow me."

The bouncer led the way to a hallway behind the bar, rapping on a thick, oak door. "What is it?" an impatient voice called.

"Someone from the FBI wants to talk to you," the bouncer replied.

There was a long stretch of silence and then the voice from inside called, "Send him in." He sounded distinctly nervous.

The bouncer opened the door and Bilkins stepped into a messy office. Papers were strewn across the desk and a bookshelf was in complete disarray. The man behind the desk appeared just as rumpled as his bookshelf, sandy blonde hair sticking up at odd angles and his eyes were tired and red. He stood and offered Bilkins a hand. "Agent Bilkins, FBI," he said, showing the owner his badge instead of shaking hands. "Are you the owner?"

"Yeah," the man said, running a hand through his hair. "I run the place."

So this was Jeremy DeWade. He didn't look like much, but his name was on the deed for this place and he was the one that had been preventing people from contacting the police. Looks weren't everything. "I'm here to talk to you about the kidnapping of one of your dancers," Bilkins told him and watched DeWade turn pale.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about," DeWade stuttered but Bilkins shook his head.

"Cut the crap. I know that one of your dancers is missing and that you won't let anyone go to police about it."

"That's bullshit," DeWade snarled, lunging forward.

"Sit down," Bilkins snapped and the man hesitated a moment before acquiescing. "Now, about the missing dancer."

"She's not missing," DeWade replied nervously. "I know where she is."

"Oh do you?" Bilkins questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," DeWade said, running a hand through his hair again. Bilkins smiled and sat down across from DeWade.

"Why don't you tell me everything, from the beginning."

"From the beginning?" DeWade asked in a weak voice. He sank down into his chair when Bilkins nodded.

"A couple years back, I started running drugs for a woman named Nadine Wallis," DeWade said, directing his gaze towards his cluttered desk. "I'd just opened up Dark Magic and I was made an offer I couldn't refuse. Everything was running smooth until Verone got involved. He sent his goons in, threatened me, and I caved. I told them everything." DeWade's hand was shaking as he ran it through his hair again. "Wallis wasn't happy. She had somebody grab a few of the girls. She even killed one of them."

"But she was still using you to help move the drugs," Bilkins guessed but DeWade shook his head.

"Not until recently. She wanted to set her business up in the city since Verone was out of the way. I told her that I didn't want anything to do with it, but she wouldn't listen. She forced me into it," DeWade's voice was desperate, pleading Bilkins to understand.

"So she took one of your dancers?"

"No, she got me back in with bank statements. She had all the proof that I'd helped her before and she was gonna turn it in to the FBI if I didn't help her."

"So why'd she take the dancer? Insurance?"

"No, it was my fault." DeWade rested his head in his hands for a moment before looking up at Bilkins and continuing. "I wasn't happy about her forcing me back in, so I made a plan. Her last shipment of product never made it to the proper warehouse. I tipped off local authorities and they seized it before the drivers even got their hands on it. I didn't think she'd find out about it."

"But she did," Bilkins finished. "And she took the dancer."

"Yeah. She wants to trade the dancer for the shipment, but I don't have the shipment. I can't make the trade."

"How long did she give you?"

"Seven days, but that was on the fourteenth."

"Don't worry about it. Just sit tight and the cops'll be around in a minute to take you into protective custody."

"Protective custody?" DeWade questioned, voice going high, but Bilkins ignored him, heading for the door. He had more important things to worry about than the club owner panicking over the idea of protective custody.

Hilary Harper was waiting for him, arms folded over her chest. "Johnson's gone," she told him. "One of the bouncers is trying to get in contact with her."

"DeWade broke," Bilkins replied, trading information with her. "I'm going to call the local police and have him put in protective custody."

"Okay. I'll check in with Stevenson and Hernandez." Harper turned and headed towards a quiet corner of the room while Bilkins pulled out his cell phone. The number of the Miami-Dade Police Department was already programmed into his cell phone for when he, inevitably, needed to work with local law enforcement. The phone rang twice before an alert sounding man answered. Bilkins rattled off his badge information and waited for the operator to check it before putting in his request. By the time he'd finished, Harper had returned and was waiting patiently to tell him what she'd learned. "The police are on their way," he told her.

"Good, then we can meet up with Stevenson and Hernandez at headquarters soon. They're putting together a case right now while Fuentes is with the sketch artist."

As Harper and Bilkins waited for the cops to arrive, one of the bouncers approached them. "Holly Johnson is on the way," the man told them. "Is there anyone else you need to get in contact with?"

"Yes, actually," Harper replied. "One of our witnesses mentioned that she'd been told about another possible witness for the case. A Tony Andretti?"

"Tony took a couple days off, but I'll see if I can get in contact with him," the bouncer told them before walking back towards the back room.

The police arrived before the bouncer returned, two of them standing guard at the front while two more were directed towards DeWade's office to collect him. "I'll stay here to bring in Johnson and Andretti," Harper told him, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his face. "You head back to headquarters and fill them in on what you've learned."

"Call in when you've got Johnson and Andretti," Bilkins ordered before heading towards the door. He nodded at the police before he stepped out into the cool night. He hesitated by his vehicle, pulling out his phone again to call Melinda. He needed to let her know that he was working on a case, because he wouldn't be coming home until he was sure O'Conner was safe.


	7. Chapter 7

_Miami, Florida  
July 18, 2003_

Brian blinked his eyes open and thought for a moment that he'd gone blind. He tried to lift a hand out towards a wall, intending to hoist himself up and get out of here, wherever here was, only to find that he was tied up. He could feel something supporting his back, which meant he was likely tied to a chair. That was so cliche that it hurt. He closed his eyes, hoping it would help them adjust to the darkness faster, shifting a little in his seat. He'd been tied to one of those cheap plastic chairs that families dragged to barbecues or soccer games, not that Brian's parents would have shown up for either. The plastic seat was hardly comfortable and the ropes wound around him had been pulled tight enough that they would start cutting off circulation in a short amount of time.

He opened his eyes again, squinting them in the vain hope that it would help him make out the figure sitting across from him. The figure was slim with long, blonde hair hanging in a pale curtain across their face. They were also tied to what locked like another plastic folding chair and their body was limp with sleep. The rest of the room appeared to be empty, but it was hard to tell in the darkness. _"Hey_ ," Brian hissed, hoping that there was no one in the room aside from he and his fellow captive. The figure didn't so much as stir, breathing still slow and even. " _Hey!"_ he called again, voice louder this time. He flinched as the sound bounced off the walls and echoed. The person across from him jolted with gasp, blonde hair slipping away to reveal wide eyes that only got wider when they saw him. Her breathing came in short, sharp gasps.

"Who...Who are you? W-What are you doing here?" the woman stammered, voice soft and worried. Her eyes flickered towards some point behind him and for a moment Brian's heart skipped a beat. Then she glanced back at him, breathing calming a little. "What's going on?" she asked, voice lower than it had been before.

"I don't know for sure," Brian replied, voice equally soft. He shifted a bit in his seat and winced as the ropes cut into his arms. Settling down again, he smiled at the woman across from him and said,"I'm Brian."

"Tia," she offered with a weak smile and Brian's eyes widened. This was the missing dancer from Dark Magic, which meant that he and Monica being followed was no coincidence. Someone had already figured out that he was looking into Tianna Holloway's kidnapping and hadn't wanted him to figure out what was going on.

" _Shit_ ," he muttered and Tia's eyebrows arched up towards her hairline. "You're the dancer from Dark Magic that the owner didn't want to report missing."

" _What?_ " Tia hissed, eyes narrowing.

"I don't know the reason why, but I can guess," he told her in a low voice. "A friend of mine found money being transferred into an overseas account at regular intervals from an unknown benefactor. It could be something legitimate, but, considering the circumstances, there's a good chance that it was drug money."

Tia's face was a strange mixture of frustration, shock, and betrayal as she silently absorbed that information. Brian kept his mouth shut. He wasn't the one dealing with the knowledge that his boss had sold him out, and he doubted she wanted his advice on the matter. After a moment she closed her eyes and blew out a shaking breath, slumping in her chair. "Why is it always a guy?" she mumbled, hair falling over her face again. Brian shifted awkwardly in his chair, certain that he was the last person she should be asking about. He had joined the legions of men who had betrayed women who'd trusted them, just by being an undercover cop.

"I'm sorry?" he offered cautiously when it became obvious that Tia wasn't going to say anything more.

" 'S not your fault," Tia replied, lifting her head and tipping it so that her hair slid away from her face. "At least I don't think it is, unless you being tied up down here with me is part of an elaborate ruse."

"I'm not part of some kind of trap," Brian replied with a grin. "At least not as far as I know." Tia snorted and Brian's grin widened. Then a door behind him swung open, banging against a wall and making both captives jump.

Tia's eyes turned worried as they focused on whoever had stormed in. " _Mike_ ," she breathed. "What's going on?"

"Sorry, but I can't talk right now," a male voice said. A slim, dark haired man stepped into view, face pale. Thick, dark smudges under his eyes hinted at the fact that this man hadn't been getting much sleep lately. In one hand, which was trembling slightly, he held a gun.

"Why do you have a gun?" Tia asked, voice wary, but the man ignored her, focus on Brian. The former cop kept his focus on Mike's body language, trying to decided if the other man was going to shoot him or not.

Mike lifted the gun and flicked the safety off, aiming it at Brian's thigh. His hands were still trembling slightly, which meant that if Mike fired the gun he'd either hit the former cop in the thigh or shoot him in the crotch. Neither option was particularly appealing. "What's going on?" Brian asked after a heavy silence, deciding to bite the bullet, metaphorically of course, and find out why Mike was pointing a gun at him.

"I'm going to ask some questions and you are going to answer them," Mike told him. "Otherwise I'm going to shoot you, understand?" Brian wanted to point out that he'd already been shot once, but thought the better of it. Instead he nodded his head once to show Mike that he understood. "Okay, good. What's your name?"

"Brian Earl Spilner," Brian lied without hesitation, meeting Mike's eyes. He'd spent weeks pretending to be Brian Spilner while undercover in LA. A few more days wouldn't hurt. When Mike didn't respond Brian added, "Do you need me to spell it out for you?"

"No," the other man grated out. "I think I can figure that out for myself. Thank you." Brian nodded, wisely keeping his mouth shut, and Mike moved on to the next question. "Why were you investigating at Dark Magic?"

"One of the bartenders happened to mention that there was a dancer missing and I got curious," he told Mike, dancing around the truth. "I dragged one of my friends along to help." He shrugged as best he could while tied up. "I didn't think that we were going to get shot at for doing some digging or I wouldn't have bothered." Mike's scowl softened some at Brian's conversational tone and his shaking hands steadied.

For a moment Brian thought that Mike was going to relax and start a conversation with them. Then the other man shook his head and glared at Brian. "You'd better not be lying," he snapped, flipping the safety back on and heading for the door without another word. Tia was watching him go, lips pulled into a concerned looking friend.

"Is he around a lot?" Brian asked softly when the door clicked closed.

"Yeah," came the equally soft reply.

"Is he always like that?"

"No," Tia murmured, chewing on her lower lip for a moment. "At least, he wasn't to start with. He was sweet, all things considered, but he kept getting twitchier and more closed off."

That wasn't good. The last thing Brian wanted to do was deal with someone who was crumbling under pressure, especially considering that his lies might not hold up if someone did research. He could end up shot and buried somewhere before Monica convinced someone to come to the rescue or discovered where he and Tia were being held. That meant Brian had to assume that he was on his own here. It was time to start finding out what Tia knew and coming up with a plan to get them out of here.

"Do they ever untie you?" Brian asked and Tia nodded.

"Mike comes and unties me for bathroom breaks, but that's it," she told him. She shifted a little in her seat and blew out a soft sigh. "A few days ago, I just about had free reign of the place. I mean, I was watched but I could roam around."

"So what changed?"

"I-I'm not sure," she said. "Mike just came back here one day all jumpy and told me to go to the basement. H-He had a gun and I..." Her breath hitched a little. "I didn't know what else to do. I mean, I took a few self-defense classes in Las Vegas but..."

"It's okay," Brian soothed as best as he could. Tia sniffed a little, looking at him with watery eyes. "Everything's going to be alright." Tia let out a wavering laugh, took a deep breath, and blew it out.

"O-Okay," she said, voice only wavering a little. "Alright. We're gonna be okay." She hesitated a moment and then asked, "What's next?"

"I need to know the layout of the building and how many people are normally in it. Any details you can remember that might be important. Are there any recording devices in the house, any way someone might be able to listen to our conversation?"

"No," Tia said, shaking her head rapidly. "No cameras. At least not that I've seen."

"No blinking lights where they shouldn't be or strange fixtures on the ceilings or walls?"

"The only blinking lights belong to a couple of smoke detectors on the second floor."

"Good." Brian blew out a relieved breath. "Okay. Tell me everything."

* * *

 _"There are two floors to the house, aside from the basement, and normally there are at least three people inside. I'm not sure how many there are outside."_

* * *

 _FBI Headquarters, Miami, Florida  
July 18, 2003  
_

"What do we know?" Bilkins asked as he hurried into the only lit meeting room in the headquarters.

"Not much," Stevenson admitted. "We have a preliminary sketch of the man who grabbed Brian O'Conner, but not much else. Local police headed for the crime scene, but that'll take hours to process, if not a few days. Did you find anything at the club?"

"Plenty," Bilkins replied. "The owner cracked like an egg. DeWade was involved in a drug running business a few years ago for a woman named Nadine Wallis. Verone didn't appreciate someone pushing into his business and decided to threaten the middle man. DeWade folded then too, and a large amount of product went missing. Wallis didn't take the loss well and tried to threaten DeWade by grabbing a few of his girls. One of them died but I'm not sure how the incident resolved."

"So DeWade is working for Wallis again?" Hernandez theorized.

"Yes, but not by choice," Bilkins told the other agents. "Wallis is blackmailing him into it. DeWade tried to strike back, which is why one of his dancers was grabbed."

"Do we have a name for the dancer?" Stevenson asked.

"Tianna Holloway," Monica said from the doorway. "At least that's the name Brian got from her friend."

"Agent Harper will probably confirm that," Bilkins added. "She was going to speak with Holloway's friend, Holly Johnson, and a bouncer named Tony Andretti. The club was trying to get into contact with them so that she could speak with both of them in person. She'll call here as soon as they arrive."

"Good," Stevenson murmured. "Emmanuel, do checks on DeWade and Holloway. See what you can come up with." Hernandez nodded, flipping open a laptop and tapping his fingers while he waited for it to power up. "Bilkins, right?" When he nodded Steveson ordered, "Check up on Nadine Wallis. Dig up anything you can about her and any known associates. See if you can find a location where she might keep O'Conner and Holloway."

Bilkins nodded and headed into the one computer room in the building. Most of the computers had been shut down, but there were a couple that were merely asleep. He roused one and settled in the rolling chair in front of it, logging in with the identification one of the techs had given him when he'd first joined the Miami agency. The database came up quickly, but a search of Nadine Wallis's name took longer and required Bilkins to type in his badge number so the system could make sure he had the clearance required to see the results of the search.

The woman who had tried to cut into Carter Verone's business turned out to have a dual citizenship, Britain and the United States, and had been in a wheelchair since she'd been shot in the spine at age twelve by someone who held a grudge against her father. The CIA and MI5 had long suspected Peter Wallis, Nadine's father, of being involved in the drug trade but they'd never been able to come up with enough evidence to hold up in a court of law. Nadine had likely taken up her father's mantle once he'd been killed, possibly along with her half brother.

David Henderson had been kept a secret from Nadine and her mother, Adrienne, whether to protect the boy from those who wished to harm him, or to protect Peter from bodily harm at the hands of his wife was questionable. Bilkins would have thought that Nadine would have resented her half brother and refused to work with him. Instead reports claimed that the two of them were often together and, while they sometimes argued, they seemed to have a good working relationship. Bilkins opened Henderson's file and printed it out, along with Wallis's before searching for anyone else close to them. Henderson came up blank, not even a girlfriend in the past few years, but Wallis was a different story.

She was engaged to a young man named Michael Young, who was originally from South Carolina. Another search came up with Young's entire history. He had a couple of speeding tickets but nothing serious on his official record, which was interesting considering who he was marrying. He had been investigated in a couple cases, but both times there had been no official charges handed out. Young was likely in the clear, but Bilkins printed off his computer file as well. Better safe than sorry.

Files printed, Bilkins returned to the meeting room where Hernandez was skimming through Tianna Holloway's file. "She's clear. There's a couple parking tickets from Las Vegas, but they've been paid. I can see if we can get her bank statements for investigation, but this information suggests that she was an innocent bystander."

"Has Harper called yet?" Bilkins asked in the silence that followed and Stevenson shook his head. "I printed off what information I found." He tossed the stacks of papers on the table and Stevenson leaned over them, looking at the pictures.

"Hernandez," he said after a moment. "Do you have that sketch?"

"Yeah, here," came the absent reply. Stevenson grabbed the sketch as it slid part of the way across the table. He compared it to the photograph in his hand before placing them down next to each other and turning to Bilkins.

"Take a look at these and tell me what you think."

Bilkins leaned over the table, looking first at the picture of David Henderson and then at the hand drawn sketch the sketch artist had done based on Monica's description. While the match wasn't perfect, it was definitely close. "I think we bring Monica in and ask her if David is the man she saw," Bilkins told Stevenson, who nodded.

"I'll go get her," Stevenson said. "You stick around to see if Harper calls. Hernandez, do some digging into the property owned by Wallis and her associates. I want to know if there's a place nearby where they might stash the kidnap victims." He didn't wait for confirmation before hurrying out of the room.

Stevenson had been gone for less than a minute when the phone on the wall rang. Bilkins hurried over and grabbed it, saying, "Bilkins."

"It's Harper," came the reply. "I've spoken to Miss Johnson, but they can't get into contact with the bouncer. I've told the police to radio into the station and send a couple officers over to his home to check out the situation."

"Okay. Are Mr. DeWade and Miss Johnson in protective custody?"

"I just handed care of them over to the local police. Should I head back to headquarters?"

"Yes," Bilkins confirmed. "As long as the police have a way to contact us."

"They have the right number to contact us," Harper told him. "I'm on my way back."

Bilkins hang up the phone as Stevenson stepped back into the room, Monica trailing him. The shaken look had faded from her face, instead being replaced by determination. "That was Harper," Bilkins reported. "Johnson and DeWade are in protective custody but they're having trouble locating Andretti. Police are heading over to his home to check out the situation. She gave them a number to contact us and she's on her way back."

"Good," Stevenson replied. "Ms. Fuentes, is this the man you saw take Mr. O'Conner?"

Monica looked at the picture for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration, before saying, "Yes."

"Alright. We have a positive identification on the kidnapper," Stevenson said. "Any luck with possible locations?"

"I've got two different apartments in Miami listed," Hernandez said. "And one tucked away in Cutler Bay, not far from here."

"Check out the apartments first," Stevenson decided. "Then, if nothing turns up, the home in Cutler Bay."

"I'll put teams together with the local police," Bilkins spoke up. "Harper can keep an eye on the situation with Andretti."

"I'll look over the reports you printed," Stevenson volunteered. "Maybe there's something we missed."

"What can I help with?" Monica asked as Bilkins headed towards the front desk to make his call.

"I'll put the call on speaker phone. You can help me organize the collaboration," Bilkins told her. "You know the local police department better than I do, and the sooner we get the ball rolling, the sooner we can help O'Conner."


	8. Chapter 8

_FBI Headquarters, Miami, Florida  
July 18, 2003_

Monica's head snapped up the instant Bilkins and Harper entered the meeting room. The FBI office had risen to full life a couple hours ago and the sun was rising over the horizon, heralding in another hot, humid day. Police teams had been deployed before sunrise to each of the locations that Hernandez had uncovered, FBI agents with them, to search for the missing dancer and Brian O'Conner. They'd originally been planning on waiting until morning, but local police had found out that Tony Andretti hadn't been home since the night Tianna Holloway had been taken and the investigators had decided to move forward sooner.

"Did you have any luck?" the DEA agent asked hopefully, setting her steaming cup of coffee aside.

"We found Andretti tied up in the basement of the Cutler Bay home, but the two Miami apartments were clear," Bilkins reported tiredly. "Hernandez is checking to see if there's any place he missed."

"Did any of you check Henderson's properties? Or Young's?" Monica questioned.

"Stevenson is checking Henderson's," Harper replied. "If that turns out to be a bust, then we'll check Young's, but his profile reads like he's in the clear."

"The profiles can be misleading," Monica said and Harper nodded.

"You and I both know it, but a judge will nail us to the wall if we try to get a search warrant for any of his properties on more than a vague suspicion," the other woman replied. Monica nodded, grabbing her coffee and sliding off the table to wake Hernandez's abandoned laptop, fingers flying across the keys. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing what I can dig up about Michael Young. If he's really marrying Nadine Wallis, out of love instead of as a convenient front, he's probably involved in her business. If so, someone has to have something on him," Monica told Harper. Harper hummed in agreement and wandered off, likely to see if there was still coffee in the office coffee maker. If not, she'd likely tell Bernice, or Ryan, depending on who was holding up the fort at the front desk for the day, that she was heading over to one of the half a dozen nearby coffee shops for a few minutes and to call her if something important came up. Bilkins leaned against the wall, struggling to keep his own eyes open. It had been a long night of digging for clues, and the entire team knew that the longer a person stayed missing, the lower the chances were of finding them alive.

Hernandez rapped on the door frame and stuck his head into the room a moment later, expression worried. "We have a problem," he said. "Henderson doesn't have any property in the sunny state of Florida. If he's here, he's either staying in hotels or with his half-sister."

"Young does have property in Miami," Monica said, looking up from Hernandez's laptop. "One home that belonged to his grandmother, not far from Dark Magic, and a second one bought just two days before the kidnapping."

"That timing's a little convenient," Hernandez muttered. "But I'm not sure a judge would go for it. All the evidence we have is circumstantial."

"I can take my normal vehicle and cruise by, just to check out the set up," Bilkins volunteered. "The rest of you can do some digging on Young and see if you can get enough evidence to convince a judge to let us go in."

"Sounds good," Hernandez agreed. "I'll tell Stevenson where you're going." Bilkins nodded in acknowledgement, leaning over Monica's shoulder to look at the address.

"It isn't far from here," Monica told him. "Depending on the traffic, you should be able to get to the neighborhood in ten minutes."

"I'll see what I can do," Bilkins told her with a tired smile, heading for the door.

The front office of the FBI headquarters was busy, people in suits hurrying back and forth. Bernice was the one at the front desk, a steaming cup of coffee sitting next to her thermos as she fielded calls and welcomed agents. "Grab a cup of coffee before you drive anywhere, honey," she called after Bilkins when he waved at her. "You look like you need it." Then she adjusted her grey streaked, dark hair and grabbed the phone before it was finished ringing for the first time.

Bilkins decided to take Bernice's advice, stopping by Cool Beans to grab a cup of coffee before changing directions and cruising towards the low income end of town. His personal car was several years old and dented on one side from the time his niece had borrowed it back in LA, but it was still nicer than most of the vehicles parked in front of houses with sagging porches and paint that was peeling in the humidity. That earned him a few curious stares as he drove by, but mostly people ignored him. Turning a corner, Bilkins made his way cautiously down the street, noting the number of swing sets and plastic sandboxes lurking in people's tiny back or front yards.

The house that he had come to take a look at was located at the end of the street. The front porch was the same, ancient, warping structure that was in front of every other house on the street, but the door looked brand new. Bilkins turned around at the end of the cul-de-sac and stopped at a house two doors down, stepping out of the car and making his way up the steps to knocking on the front door. It had been painted green at one point but, unlike the new door at the end of the street, the paint was peeling off in large hunks.

"Can I help you?" the young woman who answered the door asked. She had her hip cocked against the door frame and her dreadlocks were pulled back behind a red handkerchief.

"Sorry to disturb you," Bilkins apologized. "I was just wondering if you know who is living at the house at the end of the street."

"Who's asking?" she demanded before wincing at a crash from the house behind her. "Alex, if you broke something that wasn't yours, I will _whoop your ass!_ " There was a muffled response that made her roll her eyes before turning her attention back to Bilkins. "Sorry about that."

"Younger sibling?" he asked and she nodded.

"Yeah. And I am _so glad_ I came home from college to deal with this. Now who are you?"

"FBI," he told her, pulling out his ID and letting her take a good look at it.

"Mmkay," she said after a moment. "You wanna know about the house at the end of the road, right?"

"Right," Bilkins confirmed with a friend smile.

"Honestly, I'm not sure who they are," she said. "They come and go at weird times, always in groups, and they drive really nice cars. You know, for this part of town." She shrugged, not really seeming to care what was going on.

"Have they done any improvements on the house?"

"Aside from the new door, nothing," she replied. "The house was in good shape though. The people that owned it before? They got a raise and moved to a nicer neighborhood."

"Thank you for you time," Bilkins told her and she nodded, not bothering to wait until he turned around to shut the door. His phone rang as he headed for his car, displaying the number of the FBI office. "Bilkins," he answered.

"Any luck?" Monica asked on the other end of the line.

"I found the house," Bilkins told her. "There's a new door on it, but otherwise it looks abandoned. One of the neighbors said that people come and go from time to time, but I didn't get anything specific."

"Okay," the DEA agent sighed. "Head back this direction. We'll see if we can dig up enough on Young to get a search warrant."

* * *

 _"I'm on my way back now, unless there's anything else you need me to check on."_

* * *

 _Miami, Florida  
July 18, 2003_

Brian's arms were cramping and his fingers ached as he struggled to undo the knots that kept him pinned to the plastic folding chair. He'd managed to shift the ropes around so he could reach the knots around the time Tia had drifted off to sleep. Beyond that, he hadn't managed to get very far in his escape attempt, and he had the horrible feeling that he was running out of time. It wouldn't take that long for his captors to figure out that Brian Earl Spilner didn't really exist. It was likely that the identity had been destroyed after the failed attempt to bring Dominic Toretto and company in for the truck heists. If Brian was still around at that point, he was ending the night with a bullet in the head. That wasn't how he wanted to go out, and he definitely didn't want the blonde across from him to have to see that.

Footsteps from the floor above them had Brian relaxing his hands and hoping that whoever came down the stairs wouldn't notice that he'd managed to get one of the knots untied. "Jacob, untie him," Brian heard a voice snap. "Mike, you untie the girl. And don't screw up this time." The man speaking made his way into the former cop's view, gun held easily at his side. Brian had spent enough time in law enforcement to recognize that the handgun was a Beretta 92, one of a few standard police sidearms. The way the man held the gun suggested that he knew how to use it, and the chunk taken out of his shoulder confirmed that. Even in the shadowy basement, with crappy illumination coming from the staircase behind them like they were all living in some horror movie cliche, Brian recognized the speaker as the man who'd shot him.

Tia gasped when Mike untied her, startling awake as Brian stood and stretched out sore muscles. "What's going on?" the blonde asked, eyes darting nervously between Brian and Mike.

"We're just going for a little walk," Mike said, voice pinched and reassuring smile wavering. Tia swallowed hard but nodded, allowing Mike to guide her up the stairs.

"Follow her," the man who'd shot Brian ordered. "And don't give Jacob any trouble or he'll put another bullet in you." Jacob grinned at Brian, moving his coat aside to reveal another Beretta. Brian nodded and made his way up the stairs after Tia and Mike. There were too many guns around, ready to be pointed at his head for him to risk an escape attempt.

The group made their way out to the straggly grass of the house's backyard. Mike kept Tia near the door, drawing out a Glock and holding it against her temple with a hand that shook. She flinched away from the cold metal, startled, but settled when the gun followed her head, eyes wide and a little bit angry. The night air was relatively cool, most the humidity filtering off with the sunlight and a nice breeze ruffling the curls that were growing out again on Brian's head. He'd have to have them cut again soon. Miami was far too warm to allow his hair to grow out.

"Five steps towards the back of the yard, Brian _Spilner_ ," the man in charge sneered. Brian did as he was told, stomach sinking down towards his shoes. He turned slowly, unsurprised to see two handguns pointing at him. "Explain something to me," the man said in a conversational tone. "Why, when I look through the databases for a Brian Earl Spilner, do I find no one that is even close to your description?"

"I dunno man," Brian lied, shrugging cautiously. He kept his eyes on Jacob and the group's leader, wanting to know if they were planning on shooting him.

"I think you do," came the cold reply. Brian smiled in response, the expression more a feral baring of teeth than any sign of happiness. "And I think you'll tell me who you really are, or I'll shoot the girl."

"W-What?" Tia stammered, voice panicky. At the same time Mike yelped, "I thought you said she wasn't going to be hurt."

"Oh grow up, Mike," the leader growled, turning away from Brian. "You cannot possibly be so naive as to think that we'd let a witness walk away after all this is over with." Then he turned back to Brian. "Tell me who you are, _now_ ," he demanded.

"Does you sister know about this, David?" Mike cut in before Brian could respond and the leader's expression turned dark.

"Jacob, shoot the girl." Brian set his teeth, knowing that there was nothing he could do to prevent what was about to happen. He was too far away from anyone to even attempt to grab a gun. There was a moment of tense silence and David frowned, glancing over his shoulder at Jacob. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm not shooting my boss's fiance," Jacob said and David turned to the side to see what was going on. Brian took the chance presented to him and lunged forward, slamming his full weight into David. As the two crash to the ground, he caught a glimpse of Mike standing in front of Tia, his frame almost completely blocking her from sight. The two of them wrestled in the grass and Brian flinched when a gun went off, followed by a yelp of pain. David had the advantage of weight, size, and muscle mass over Brian, so the flinch was the only thing he needed to get in a blow that sent Brian reeling.

The fist that connected with his stomach had Brian gasping for breath as he was shoved aside, David rolling gracefully to his feet. Brian made it to his knees in time to see David's gun leveled at his forehead. "I guess that if you want something done right, you really have to do it yourself," he snarled, finger curling around the trigger. Brian braced himself, hoping vainly for an opportunity that he knew wasn't coming. The first bang had him flinch and David's whole body jerked with the impact of the bullet. The thunderous sound of gun fire issued again and again, sending red blooming across David's chest and blood splattering across Brian's face. He scrambled to his feet as David's body collapsed, watching with wide eyes as Mike turned to the gun towards Jacob.

"Put your weapon down," Mike ordered, hands no longer shaking and demeanor no longer nervous. Tia was standing a little to his left, eyes wide and stunned looking.

"Okay, man," Jacob said, slowly holding the gun out to his side and crouching down to place it on the ground. Brian could hear wailing sirens in the distance, guessing that one of the neighbors had called the cops, so he turned his attention to Mike.

"It's all over," he told the other man, absently noting that Tia sagged with relief when she heard that.

Mike met his eyes, looking tired but determined, and nodded. "Yeah, it is."

* * *

 _"Jacob Miller, Michael Young, you are both under arrest for kidnapping and attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent..."_

* * *

 _Los Angeles, California  
July 19, 2003_

"In a surprising turn of events, Miami-Dade Police and the FBI took down international drug runner Nadine Wallis and her fiance, Michael Young. Wallis is being charged with multiple counts of murder, drug trading, money laundering, and kidnapping. Young is facing two counts of kidnapping and will shorten his prison sentence by testifying against Wallis. The kidnapping victims, a former Los Angeles police officer and an employee of the club Dark Magic, were both retrieved unharmed." The perky, brunette reporter smiled just before the view changed back to one of the news anchors. Mia Toretto reached for the remote, muting the television with a frown.

"Don't be silly," she murmured, barely resisting the urge to stand and pace restlessly. "There's probably dozens of former LAPD members in Florida." Her fingers tapped on her knees and she chewed on her lower lip before letting out a sigh. Who was she kidding? According to a newspaper article she'd found a month ago, Brian had ramped a car onto an Argentinian drug lord's yacht to rescue a DEA agent. Getting himself kidnapped by an international criminal was exactly what her one time boyfriend would get into.

Mia flipped off the television and headed for the door. The store needed to be open in an hour and, since Dom and the others had fled in the aftermath of Race Wars, it was her main source of income. She might be able to drive like a pro, but putting cars together after they'd broken had always been her brother's talent. Mia had always been more excited about learning how to put people back together. That was ironic now, considering that she couldn't even keep herself together anymore.

She'd fallen hard for Brian, in a way that she'd never fallen for anyone else. She'd given him her heart, and she'd genuinely believed he'd felt the same. Then, after she'd already got into a full out argument with Dom over the truck hijackings that he'd been pulling, Brian had told her that he was a police officer. The revelation had shattered the happy bubble that Mia had been living in. She'd thought that she'd finally found someone outside of Dom's gravitational orbit, but instead she'd discovered that Brian had been there because of her brother. He'd used her as a way into Dom's crew in order to turn her family in, and a large part of her was still bitter about it.

The one consolation that Mia had was that Brian hadn't turned Dom in. She'd found out from his sergeant, Nick Tanner, that Brian had given her brother the keys to his Supra after Dom had wrecked the Charger, a thought that made her cringe, and let him run. Tanner had been digging for information, about Brian, not her brother, but Mia hadn't had anything to tell him even if she would have wanted to. Brian hadn't contacted her since Jesse had been shot by Johnny Tran outside the house. Mia shuddered and picked up her pace, hurrying towards her car without glancing at the sidewalk. Even though one of the neighbors had scrubbed under the bloodstains were gone, she still couldn't bare to look in that direction. Jesse had been family, and the knowledge that he was dead was just as crushing a blow as the knowledge that Brian had lied to her.

Brian had insisted that he'd loved her. He'd told her that everything he'd said that he'd felt for her was genuine. Mia didn't know if she could believe that. Brian had let Dom go, but she wasn't sure why. Had it been because he'd loved her, or because he'd come to feel like a part of the Toretto family? The only way she'd get her answers was by going to Miami and talking to him, but she wasn't certain she could do that on her own. Parking outside the store, Mia banged her head against the steering wheel, flinching as the horn honked. She needed someone she could talk to honestly in order to get her head on straight, but everyone she trusted with this was gone.

Mia stepped out of the car and headed for the store, hoping that some hard work would calm her whirling brain. There was a figure leaning against the door, making her hesitate as she turned around from locking her vehicle. She squinted against the harsh light of the rising sun and her breath caught in her throat when she finally recognized who was standing there, waiting for her. " _Letty?"_

* * *

 _The story will continue in Puzzle Pieces..._


	9. Teaser

Hey everyone! Here's a quick teaser from the sequel to _Dark Magic_ , titled _Puzzle Pieces_. That story will be posted at a rate of one chapter a day (just like this one) starting this Sunday (April 3rd). There won't be a ton of action, because _Puzzle Pieces_ is a build up to the much longer third story (which is possibly the last story in this series), but hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway. (And, despite it being April 1st, this isn't a prank :D). For now, here's the teaser to tide you over!

* * *

 _Exerpts are pulled from the first two chapters of Puzzle Pieces_

* * *

Tia's brow furrowed as she struggled to figure out where she knew the man from. After a moment it dawned on her. This was one of Brian's friends who'd been waiting at the Miami-Dade police precinct. The loud one who'd looked like he'd wanted to shake Brian for scaring him.

"Y-Yeah," she choked out, managing a weak smile. "You're one of Brian's friends, right?"

"Roman Pearce," he said, carefully letting go of her. "And yeah, I am. Someone's gotta keep that crazy white boy outta trouble."

"That sounds like quite a job," Tia said with a more genuine grin, some of her panic fading away. Roman grinned back at her and she noticed that her hand had wandered up to play with a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun. "Um, how's Brian?"

"You can ask him yourself, if you want," Roman told her, jerking his head to one side. Tia turned her gaze in that direction and found herself smiling again when Brian- O'Conner, not actually Spilner- waved at her. He was leaning against the silver body of a car with deep blue shapes and blue lighting on the undercarriage. Next to him was a pretty woman with dark brown curls pinned up at the base of her skull. She gave Tia a friendly smile before turning and saying something to Brian. "You going in?" Roman asked, redirecting her attention towards him. He gestured towards the club as he spoke, making it clear what place he was talking about.

Tia chewed on her lower lip, considering her options. This had been looking like the third unsuccessful attempt on her part to re-enter the club. Maybe she could actually manage to get inside the club if there was someone around to distract her. "Yeah," she said, determined.

"Great. You can come in and hang with us," Roman said with a wide grin.

"If you want to," a new voice cut in and Tia turned to see Brian smiling at her. "You don't have to."

"It's okay," she reassured the blonde haired man. "I could use some company. I, uh, I haven't successfully been back in Dark Magic since the kidnapping." The last sentence jumbled together in an awkward rush and her cheeks flushed pink.

"You got kidnapped from here," the woman said with a gentle smile. "It isn't uncommon for that kind of thing to have some kind of psychological effect."

"Yeah," Tia replied with a weak laugh. "It's not exactly fun though, and I have to go back to work sometime."

"If you think this will help, then we'll try it," the woman told her before offering her hand. "I'm Monica, by the way. Monica Fuentes."

"Tia Holloway," Tia said, shaking Monica's hand. "Nice to meet you."

* * *

"Nothing's bothering me." Mia's voice went defensive and she slipped the rag back under the counter, stepping out from behind it to straighten inventory.

"Bullshit," Letty replied, drawing the word out. "What is it? The truck heists? Dom running? Jesse's death?" Mia flinched a little at the mention of Jesse and moved deeper into the store, hoping to escape Letty's prodding. "Is it Brian?" Mia stiffened, her hand curling tight around a bag of chips, which crackled alerting Letty to her agitation. "Don't tell me that you're still in love with the pig!"

"I don't know, okay?" Mia spat back, whirling around to scowl at her old friend. "He told me it was all real, but I don't know whether he was lying or not." Mia buried her head in her hands with a low moan.

"Mia girl?" Letty questioned cautiously and Mia dropped her hands, revealing teary brown eyes.

"I just need to know the truth," she told Letty.

"So go ask him then," Letty said casually, not looking exactly pleased by the suggestion but managing to keep most of the venom out of her voice.


End file.
